


A Girl Worth Fighting For

by SaintDionysus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Disney References, Disney World & Disneyland, F/M, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Love Triangles, Muggle Life, Muggle Studies, Muggle/Wizard Relations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus
Summary: Due to the events of War, The Ministry of Magic has ordered students to repeat their final year, despite being legal wizarding age and completion of OWLs. Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini form a friendship as head boy and head girl and find a way to use their authority to challenge the Ministry. Along the way, she finds herself caught between two unexpected love interests, while Blaise plays referee between his two friends.Alphas/Betas:Mama2HPBabiesand MotherofBullsOriginally Written for Strictly Dramione’s Springfest Exchange, but has been re-written to become more of a love triangle.Prompt: 8th year, Hogwarts Muggle Studies class. Paired during Integration of Purebloods to Muggle culture. Side pairing Blaise & Luna





	1. The Eighth Year

**Author's Note:**

> Alright everyone, this story is going to start a little bit heavier on the Dramione side. Just wait and see... Also, it's going to get a little meta with some Disney references.

— BY ORDER OF —  
MINISTRY OF MAGIC

All members of wizarding society, aged eighteen years and younger, are required to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry if they have not completed their N.E.W.T. level examinations.

# ⟢◈M◈⟣

To Whom it May Concern:

While we understand that the legal wizarding age is seventeen, and prior decrees state that any student is eligible to leave school upon coming of age and completing Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Hogwarts Board of Governors, The Wizengamot, and the Minister of Magic have enacted this decree in effect until June of the year two thousand. Recent events have taken its toll on our community. This enactment was created to allow students to heal with their peers, learn to put aside their differences, and rebuild their beloved school in an environment away from the whole of Wizarding society.

All students that fit the aforementioned criteria, will receive their school lists by owl. Any students with their apparition license must still check-in at platform nine and three-quarters before apparating to Hogsmeade.

Good luck.

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

Minister of Magic

* * *

 

Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter sat at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld Place and read the letter over and over again.

“Kingsley can’t be serious, can he?” Ron asked.

Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear and said, “I believe so. While _I_ am choosing to go back to school, it’s unfair to create this mandate when so many of us are already adults. Frankly, it’s a violation of our rights.”

Harry pouted, “Ron and I were supposed to start at the Auror Academy in two weeks. Instead, we have to buy schoolbooks and new uniforms. I guess being The Chosen One who vanquished the Dark Lord really doesn’t count for much, does it?”

As much as Hermione would have liked to chastise Harry’s sarcasm, he had a point. As war heroes and heroine, they thought they would be privy to a few more perks. That was not the case. The ministry still saw them as children and wanted to send them to go to school for therapy, free construction labor, or whatever this eighth year was supposed to be. The lack of choice definitely rubbed them the wrong way, to the point the wondered if they just swapped one regime for another.

Three owls swooped in to deliver their letters. Hermione opened hers first and proceeded to read aloud.

 

* * *

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of_  WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

HEADMISTRESS: MINERVA McGONAGALL

 

Dear Miss Granger,

   I would like to personally welcome you back to Hogwarts. Your presence has been missed. As you may have heard, the Ministry mandate requires you, along with your original class, to return for an eighth year, regardless of attendance last year. Between us, I view it as a slap in the face as an educator and belittling you as adults by taking away your rights. Nonetheless, Hogwarts is happy to welcome you home.

Additionally, we are in a unique situation as last year’s Head Boy and Girl will be repeating their final year. Both have graciously declined the responsibility and I am happy to appoint you as Head Girl for the 1998–99 school year. You will share duties with Head Boy, Blaise Zabini.

In regards to living quarters, an inter-house dormitory has been opened for all eighth-year students. The ministry has granted you a space in which you may feel more comfortable, as adults, but I will warn everyone to exercise a level of restraint and remind you, that you will be setting an example for younger students

To add to your duties, all muggleborns and half-bloods will be assisting Professor Arabella Figg in the now compulsory, Muggle Studies course. More details on your involvement will be explained on the first day of term.

Lastly, with my promotion to Headmistress, you will have a new Head of House. Though you will be housed in an integrated dormitory, you still represent Gryffindor House.

I expect you, Harry, and Ronald in my office for tea when you arrive. Until then.  

Yours Sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Headmistress  

 

* * *

 

 

“Wow. McGonagall was in a mood when she wrote that, wasn’t she?” Ron said shocked at their headmistress’s blunt letter and the long list of changes at the school.

“Mrs. Figg will be teaching Muggle Studies?” Harry scratched his head also trying to understand what they needed to expect when they returned to Hogwarts. “Well, makes sense.”  

“Harry, you know Professor Figg?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah. Remember when I told you about the squib neighbor that spoke at my trial?” Harry reminded her. Hermione’s eyes lit up as she put the pieces together. “That’s Mrs. Figg. Dumbledore had her move in when I was placed with the Dursleys; she was also my babysitter when I was little.”

“Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed. “Yes! I mean, it was an absolute tragedy what happened to Professor Burbage, but a squib who has lived as a muggle is the perfect person to teach this subject. She would actually know what she’s talking about.”

“Ugh, you mean I need to learn about Muggle gadgets and stuff?” Ron griped.

“If we’re lucky, she’ll teach you about muggle manners and how not to be an insensitive prat all the time,” Hermione shot him a scathing look.

Ron grew quiet. Things had been tense between them since the Battle. The kiss in the heat of the moment wasn’t enough for them to move forward with a real relationship. Every time they were alone, it was awkward. He would say the wrong thing, and she would overreact. Harry had to intervene and tell them that for the sake of all of their friendships, a romantic relationship wasn’t going to work.

“Hermione...” Harry said in a disciplinary tone, “play nice. Yeah, Mrs. Figg is a bit odd, but she’s definitely the right balance of magical and Muggle to teach this class. I wonder what our roles as teacher’s aides will be.”

“I’m wondering the same thing, but I’m excited. I think it will be nice to go back to Hogwarts,” she said wistfully.

“Yeah. I’m especially looking forward to the Feast,” said Ron.

“And Quidditch. You think I’ll get to be captain again?” Harry asked.

“Open your letters,” Hermione motioned to them.

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said as he and Harry tore open their envelopes. “Hey, I still get to be prefect!”

“Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Ginny is co-captain! Ron, want to head back to your parents’? I want to celebrate the good news with Ginny,” Harry said with a smirk.

“Harry, keep whatever it is you do with my sister to yourself,” Ron looked as though he was going to be sick. “Yeah, we’ll floo over. I can’t believe Magical Transport gave us citations for not having our apparition licenses.”

“Don’t forget, our examinations are on Friday, nine a.m. sharp,” Hermione stated.

“I’m not forgetting that one,” Harry assured her. “The floo network is so limiting. How did we live without apparition?”

“Like barbarians,” Ron joked.

Offended, Hermione said, “You mean, _like muggles_?”

“Oh, ‘Mione. I didn’t mean it like that,” he tried to apologize.

“I’m going back to my parents’ house to help them unpack. I’ll talk to you later.” She stood up from the kitchen table and gave Harry a hug from behind, then just walked past and curtly nodded, “Ron.”  

When Hermione was out of view, Harry stared at Ron with a disappointed look and shook his head.

“What?” Ron pretended not to know what that look was for.

“I don’t know how she hasn’t managed to hex you after eight years of friendship,” Harry said, exasperated.

“Well, there was the thing with the birds…”

“I think the next time, she’s going to use crows or something with sharper talons.”

 

* * *

 

 

Draco Malfoy passed his letter to his mother after he had read it a few times to himself. He was a bundle of mixed emotions. On the one hand, he wasn’t ready to enter wizarding society and was looking forward to prolonging adolescence for just a little bit longer. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how he would be treated by the other students. Would they forgive him or at least tolerate him? Was his testimony enough to prove he wasn’t a Death Eater sympathizer or would the faded Mark on his arm be a constant reminder?

“You turned down being Head Boy for a second year? And Miss Greengrass? Is she turning down her post as well?” his mother questioned coolly, allowing her son to explain himself.

“Yes, Daphne also passed on her post,” Draco knew what his mother wanted, but he wasn’t going to give it to her easily.

“Is there a particular reason why you and Miss Greengrass will not be taking on leadership roles?” The tight-lipped matriarch pushed the subject.

Knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this, Draco sighed and reasoned, “Daphne said she wants to spend more time on her studies and looking after her sister. Astoria is still really shaken up by last year’s events and can’t live with the guilt of the things the Carrows made her do, especially to the little ones. Daph even got special permission from Headmistress McGonagall to stay in the seventh year dorms in case Tori gets night terrors and needs help taking her potions.”

Draco saw his mother’s stern face soften to that of a concerned mother. He knew this would make his reasoning a bit easier to swallow. “Mum. The past two years I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was tasked with the impossible and then spent last year doing my best to be the Dark Lord’s perfect little soldier and head boy. The looks my professors gave me, mum. They were so disappointed in me. I felt like I didn't deserve the title even though I worked for it. They knew I could do more to stop those bastards—”

“Language.”

“Sorry. I just want to be a normal teenager, do well on my N.E.W.T.s, and play quidditch. Look at the letter. I’m still a prefect and Quidditch captain. I still have responsibilities, but not as much.” He gave his mother a sweet look that he knew melted her heart. There is nothing stronger than the bond between a mother and son—and he would take advantage of it any way he could.  

Narcissa took her son in her arms and tucked her head on his shoulder. He had grown even taller over the summer. It was hard for her to believe her little boy was becoming a man—but a man who wanted remain a boy for just a bit longer. “I’m very proud of you, Draco. It takes a strong man to take on immense responsibility, but an even stronger one to know his limitations. You’ve thought about this, and I support you.”

“And Father?” he asked, not wanting to let his mother go.

“Don’t worry what your father thinks.” Her tone went cold again.

“Will you two ever be alright again?” he asked, finally breaking the embrace to look his mother in the eyes.

“I don’t know. The things he dragged us into, dragged you into,” her voice was filled with shame knowing she was partially to blame, “You weren’t ready to make those decisions. I’m not a forgiving woman, Draco. It will take me some time if I ever do.”

Draco nodded and understood, “I’m going to go meet Blaise, Theo, and Greg. I was granted some time off of house arrest to go visit Vincent’s grave.”

“Of course,” she choked out. His mother, Irma, wrote to her frequently. She was still having difficulty with her son’s death and husband’s imprisonment. “You go. I’ll send a request to the ministry for an escort to Diagon Alley. The letter here doesn’t show you needing much in the form of new books, but you’ll need some new robes. You’ve grown so much.”

He knew the double meaning of his mother’s words and gave her another hug. “Bye, mum. I’ll see you at curfew.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Mum? Dad? Are you home?” Hermione hollered as she stepped onto the hearth. She looked around the sitting room and the kitchen and couldn’t find them. “Mum?” She ran upstairs through all the rooms. “Dad?” Her chest tightened as she started to panic. “Where are you?” She raced to the back garden and couldn’t find them. Tears started streaming down her face as she ran outside to see them in the drive unloading groceries. She threw her arms around her mother and sobbed, “I couldn’t find you!”

Jean Granger dropped the groceries and held her daughter tight. “Oh, sweet pea. We’re here. You found us. You’ll always find us.”

“Mum, Dad, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I should have known you just went to the market. It’s just—”

“Shh,” her mother cooed. “Let’s go inside and make a cup of tea.”

After the Battle, it didn’t take Hermione, Harry, and Ron long to find her parents in Australia. Wendell and Monica Wilkins were not the discreet couple Hugh and Jean Granger were. They made the news after becoming Australia's most extreme couple. They went BASE jumping off the Sydney Harbour bridge, performed oral surgery on a crocodile at the Australia Zoo, surfed in shark infested waters, and competed in a rally race in the Australian Outback. When their memories were returned, they fainted in horror at all the dare-devilish things they had accomplished. They realized they had done those outlandish acts to fill a void, they didn’t know it at the time, but they had missed Hermione, and gladly went home with their beloved daughter.

Jean placed a mug of tea in front of Hermione and sat beside her. Her fingers lovingly combed her daughter's curls. Hermione was born with a soft tuft of blonde hair, but it didn't take long for the brown curls to take over her little head. Anytime little Hermione as scared, Jean’s loving touch would always calm her down.

“Sweetheart, what's on your mind? Anything you want to talk about?”

“I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for doing what I did to you and dad. But I had to protect you. I had—”

“You did the right thing. Your dad and I wouldn't have been able to protect ourselves. Your world is wonderful and at the same time, terrifying for those of us who cannot wield magic. You made an impossible decision out of love, and we will always be grateful and love you for it,” Jean reassured her child.

Hermione turned her head to look at her mother, “You know, I got the idea from granddad. Not the memory erasing, but the sending you away.”

“How so?”

“He told me the story of when he was a little boy, during World War II, he was sent to the country to escape the bombing. He didn’t really know where he was or if he would ever see his family again. But he was safe. All I wanted for you and dad was to be safe and not to mourn me if I…”

“Sweetheart, you forgot how powerful love is. We did mourn you, even though we didn’t know that is what it was. We did the most ridiculous things because our hearts missed you. You can’t just erase the bond between a mother and child.”

“Oh, mummy!” she hugged her mum and felt small once more.

“Hermione, I don’t know if you’re ready to go back to school. Can you just take a correspondence course and return for examinations?” Jean grew worried about sending Hermione back in this fragile state.

“We don’t have a choice. There was a Ministry decree mandating we all return to school. I believe it’s all part of some master plan to teach us how to get along and go through therapy,” she explained.

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

“They’ll also be placing us in the same dormitories with students who fought on the opposite side.”

“Oh. How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. Part of me wants to forgive, but the other part of me is worried about the tension. I know they went to trial and honestly mum, they were scared and only fought on that side because they thought that’s what their parents wanted. I don’t know. I’m torn.”

“I say extend the olive branch, but keep them at arm’s length. Don’t get closer unless you feel safe.”

“Thanks, mum. That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

“Your tea is cold. Shall I warm it up?”

Hermione laughed, “Please.”

 

* * *

 

The boys laid flowers on the empty grave. The fiendyre had destroyed everything in the Room of Requirement including Vincent’s body, but his mother still wanted to memorialize him and give him a place in the family graveyard.

“You were an idiot, Crabbe,” Draco said staring at the marble headstone, “You cast the curse that killed you and could have killed both me and Greg, but you were loyal, and I won’t forget that. I hope a feast awaits you on the other side.”

“What if he’s a ghost a Hogwarts now?” Goyle pondered.

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Theo remarked.

“Well that bastard will be the perviest ghost in all of Hogwarts history, and we’ll have to send the Bloody Baron to make sure Crabbe doesn’t peep in all the girl's bathrooms,” Blaise joked.

They all laughed, imagining the horror on Pansy’s face if she saw his ghost appear while she showered.

“Alright, Greg and I have another hour until we are due back. What do you want to do?” Draco asked.

“Mrs. Crabbe said she was going to have tea and snacks for us. In the meantime, I have this,” Blaise pulled out a flask and took a swig, then passed it to Draco on his right.

“Very nice,” Theo chimed in and took it after Draco.

“So integrated dorms?” Draco said.

“Ugh,” Greg grumbled.

“We’ll be sharing a common room with the Golden Trio,” Theo stated, “and you’ll be getting awfully close to one Hermione Granger, won’t you Blaise.”

“Ha! I guess so. It’s up to me to be the shining beacon of positivity for Slytherin House, boys. It could have been you, getting friendly with Granger, Draco.” Blaise shrugs his eyebrows up and down before taking another swig. He notices Draco’s face clench, and ears go pink. “Whoa, mate. It was a joke. Why are you getting all flustered?”

“I’m not,” Draco defended himself. “I’m just thinking about our history, and how awkward it’s going to be.”

“What do you mean, _your history_?” Theo pried.

“Um, my aunt almost killing her, Crabbe almost killing her, Potter and Weasley saving me twice during battle, then she and Potter saving me at my trial. I’m in massive debt to that girl, one that I can’t just pay off,” Draco scratched his head in frustration. “I’m going to have to do something. Say something. I can’t just pretend things are all great for the sake of inter-house unity.”

“Drake, I’ll have her ear because we’re forced to work together. We don’t have any bad blood between us. I can be your mediator,” Blaise clapped him on the back. “I mean, I know you fancy her, and now she’s this war heroine, it’s going to be really hard to fancy a pathetic sack like you back without some coercion.”

“Sod off! I don’t fancy her!” Draco said defensively.

“Well, I do,” Theo said. “She looked so good at your trial, Draco. That summery floral dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Our uniforms should be made illegal. I can’t believe those tits and arse were hiding beneath those robes. The way everything bounced as she took the witness stand. How did you not pop a boner in the middle of the Wizengamot? I know I did.”

Draco lunged at Theo, and the two started rolling in the grass.

Theo threw his hands up, “I concede! Granger’s all yours...for now. If you don’t make any progress by Christmas, I’m asking her out. I have a better chance with her than you do. I was her partner in both potions and arithmancy in sixth year. Clock’s ticking, Draco.”

Blaise and Greg couldn’t stop laughing at the way Theo egged Draco on. He had a point, and it was really getting to Draco.

“Shut up,” he pouted. “I don’t fancy Granger. I just can’t stand you being such an idiot.”

“Uh huh,” Blaise said skeptically. “Clean yourselves off, or else Mrs. Crabbe is going to have more questions for us than we care to answer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! Feel free to leave me a response here, but I'm also on [Tumblr](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) and [Facebook](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	2. Forgiveness and Friendships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so excited that all of you are liking the story thus far. I have a lot of Dramione shippers worried about Theo. He is rather endearing, isn't he? Wait and see...

It was the first of September and Hermione, Ron, and Harry arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters early. They wanted to avoid the stares and crowds and walked quickly to the apparition check-in.

“Granger!” A voice called behind her followed by running footsteps.

She turned around and saw her counterpart, “Hey Zabini.”

“I’m glad I caught you before you got to Hogsmeade,” he puffed. Running full sprint with a trolley was no easy task. “I owled the Three Broomsticks and the school this morning. Everything is set. The elves and carriages will meet us at the pub to pick up our trunks and will be back later to take us to the castle. Oh, hi Potter, Weasley. Sorry. Got excited.”

Harry and Ron looked at the two of them utterly confused.

“Guys, I told you that Blaise and I had a head start on planning for the year. He’s talking about the reception for the eighth years before the feast. Remember?” She attempted to jog their memories.

“Ah, right,” Harry said. “It should be fun to do something without all the little kids.”

“You have no idea. Granger and I have big announcements, but we’ll save those. Go on and check in. I’ll see you there,” Blaise said excitedly.

“Why don’t you just come with us?” Hermione asked.

“Well, I have to wait for Draco and Greg. Because of their, um,” he hesitated, “situation. They need to be escorted by a responsible party, and as head boy, I fit the bill.”

“Oh!” Ron exclaimed, understanding what Blaise was implying, “Their probation! I’m sure Malfoy was miffed to not make head boy again. Fall from grace. Fall from power.”

Hermione and Harry looked at him with shock and embarrassment. Hermione slapped him upside the head, and Harry threw his hands up.

“I apologize for Ronald, Blaise,” she said annoyed, “He’s a bit thick and has a complete lack of tact when it comes to sensitive subjects. I’m sure Malfoy has his own reasons as to why he turned down the post. McGonagall is a fair woman and would have offered it to him, didn’t she?”

“She did. Asked Daphne, too. Both of them want to focus on their mental health and families. I think stepping down from leadership roles, to take a break a for personal development, is _brilliant_ and _shows maturity_. Hate to prove your assumptions about my friends wrong, Weasley. You know what they say when you _assume,”_ Blaise almost lost his cool, but regained his composure and directed his attentions back to Hermione with a smile. “I had to pull a lot of strings at the Ministry to become an approved chaperone. Um, you and Potter are too.”

Realizing what he was referring to, she said, “Oh! Is it because of—”

“Yeah, but we are going to ruin all the surprises. Oh, they just got here. See you later.” Blaise walked over to meet up with Draco, Greg, and their auror escorts.

“So when did you two get so chummy?” Harry asked with an insinuating look.

“After he had found out I was head girl, he owled me, and we had some similar thoughts about our current situation and came up with some pretty creative solutions.”

Hermione’s vague answers didn’t sit well with Ron. “So you two an item?” he said with an obvious hint of jealousy.

“No, Ron. I’m not romantically involved with every male friend. If that were the case, I would have snogged all of your brothers and most of Gryffindor House.”

Harry threw his head back in frustration knowing that things would never change between these two.    

—xoxox—

“I’ve got it from here, gents,” Blaise said handing the signed form back to the aurors. The men nodded and left their charges with Zabini.

“So what were you and Granger talking about?” Draco asked.

Blaise grinned and shook his head, “Just Head Boy and Head Girl stuff. We’ll fill everyone in at the reception. Look, Theo just got here. Let’s all sign in and head to The Three Broomsticks.”

“Hey,” Theo said as he walked up. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just Draco getting jealous of me talking to Granger,” Blaise joked.

“I hate you guys,” Draco grumbled.

—xoxox—

“This reception was a great idea, Blaise, but how do we get everyone to mingle more?” Hermione asked nervously while holding her butterbeer. Inter-house unity wasn’t going to be an easy task, even with a Gryffindor Head Girl and Slytherin Head Boy.

“Let’s round up the leadership first, so prefects and Quidditch captains, talk to them and go from there,” Blaise suggested. “I’ll grab what’s-their-faces from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and you get Draco, Pans, Potter, and Weasley.”

“Blaise, you can’t call them ‘what’s-their-faces’!” Hermione scolded. “Hannah and Ernie from Hufflepuff, and Padma and Anthony from Ravenclaw.”

“See we are already a great team. Good job, Granger,” Blaise winked at her.

She laughed as she walked over to the group of Slytherins. Zabini was easy to talk to, but she has a less than friendly history with Parkinson, and an even worse history with Malfoy. Hermione steadied her breath and already prepared for backtalk.

“Hey Granger, welcome to the snake pit,” Theo called her over. “Can I get you a drink?”

She lifted up her mug and said, “Got one.”

“I got your next round,” he said with a wink.

Hermione blushed and said, “Thanks, Nott. Actually, I’m here for Malfoy and Parkinson. Zabini wants to have a meeting with all the prefects and captains.”

“Yeah, sure. Where are we meeting?” Pansy said with a casual snobbishness.

“Back room,” Hermione answered, putting on a fake smile.

“Granger, wait,” Draco called to her as she started to walk away. “Can we talk for a minute?”

He received the oddest looks from the Slytherin girls but goading smiles from the boys.

Hermione didn’t want to talk to him just yet, so she attempted to make an excuse, “I need to get Ron and Harry. They’re needed in the meeting, too.”

“Pans, grab Weasley and Potter. We’ll meet you there.” She scoffed at his orders but complied either way. “Problem solved, so can we chat?”

She sighed and nodded as he led her away from the group.

Theo cleared his throat to get Draco’s attention. He tapped his watch and said, “Christmas. Don’t forget.”

Draco scowled at him, placed his hand on the small of Hermione’s back, and tried to get away from his friends as quickly as possible. They found a corner away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers.

“Malfoy is this about the—”

“Letter. Yes. So you did get it?”

She sighed, “Yes, but I just didn’t know how to respond. It was long. Really long.”

“Well, it was seven years of apologies and appreciation for everything you did at the battle and my trial. I meant it all. Sincerely,” he said while staring her in the eyes, trying to prove he was telling the truth.

“I know. I have it on me. I’ve read it at least three or four times.”

“And?” he asked hopefully, impatiently.

“I appreciate the apology, it may take me some time to forgive, but I’m looking forward to starting fresh.” She gave him a half-smile.

“Then I’ll start.” He held his hand out and said with a cheeky grin, “Hi, I’m Draco Malfoy. I’m a spoiled only child. My mother and father didn’t make the best parenting decisions, so if I say completely terrible things, just put it all on them. I’m not responsible for any of it. Also, if I tend to abuse my power as prefect and Quidditch captain, I give the Head Boy and Head Girl full permission to tell me I’m being a twat.”

She laughed and took his hand, “Hi Draco Malfoy, I’m Hermione Granger. I’m also a spoiled only child but manage to hide it a little better. I’m bossy and overstep my boundaries, as most only children do, and have to be reminded to play well with others. As Head Girl, I have no problem calling you a twat, prat, tosser, or even wanker, if it so fits.”

“Granger, the mouth on you!” He joked, not having let her hand go just yet.

“Oh, I spent more than my fair share of time with the Weasley boys. This stuff just rubs off on you,” she smirked, finally releasing his hand. “You ready to go to this leadership meeting?”

“Yeah. So what have you and Blaise been cooking up?” he asked as he tucked his hands in his pockets.

“You’ll see.”

—xoxox—

After the leadership meeting, the very excited group gathered the rest of the eighth year students to the center of the pub. Blaise and Hermione stood on one of the large tables as a makeshift stage.

Blaise was a shiny ball of charisma as he addressed the crowd, “Hello everyone! I really hope that after seven years together that you would know my name, but I’m Blaise Zabini, your Head Boy. The woman to my left, who really needs no introduction, but let’s give it to her anyway, Hermione Granger, is your Head Girl.”

Hermione blushed at the rousing applause, and lowered her hands up and down to signal the audience to settle down, “Alright, Blaise and I planned this reception for you before the Hogwarts Express arrives so we could reacquaint ourselves, discuss items that only pertain to our year—as our perks will make the underclassmen very jealous. Also, it gives us some time to unwind.”

“What she means is we can get sloshed before having to deal with first years,” he joked.

“You all can get sloshed,” she pointed out to the crowd. The then pointed to all the prefects and captains, “You keep it together. Don’t forget; you still have to escort first years to their houses.”

“Make the fifth year prefects do it!” They heard Ernie holler from the leadership crowd.

“Actually, yeah. As Head Boy, I’m enacting eighth-year prefects get the night off and the fifth through seventh-year prefects are on babysitting duties. Any objections?” He looked at Hermione.

“Nope,” she smiled.

“Settled. This is great because I already have cases of butterbeer, ale, and firewhisky being brought to our common room.” He gave her a wink.

“Perfect segue, Blaise. Firstly, let’s talk about how we are all legally adults. The ministry and board of governors know they messed up mandating adults to attend school and reworking laws so that attending Hogwarts wasn’t a choice. So they’ve made some concessions. One, as adults, we are allowed to consume alcohol and smoke as long as it’s within the eighth year compound. We will face disciplinary action if we exhibit any of this behavior in front of the underclassmen. Do not violate these provisions and ruin it for all of us. Secondly, we will receive every weekend off. As everyone has their apparition license, you may return home, go into the city, or just go to Hogsmeade as long as you return to Hogwarts by nine in the evening on Sundays. If you have your Fridays free, or you only class is early in the morning, congratulations, you have a three-day weekend.”

The crowd cheered and murmured at the prospect of them having some liberties.

“Now about our compound,” Blaise explained. “This is going to sound a little mental, but they converted the Chamber of Secrets. It was one of the few areas of the castle not completely damaged, and they had to move quickly to build this out for us. Now to go with the trusting adult aspect, this is a co-ed, inter-house dormitory, and everyone has their own room—for privacy” he said suggestively. “We have kitchen facilities, a bathroom that rivals the prefect’s, workout and dueling gym, quiet study lounge, and a lifts to the castle and private terrace. Hermione and I had some heated arguments with the Governors and the Ministry, made demands, and we got what we wanted. You’re welcome.”

Blaise bowed, and Hermione curtseyed as the crowd applauded.

“Alright, enjoy the next couple of hours. The carriages will pick us up before fetching the other students at the station. We’ll give you a reminder when to get your robes on,” Hermione added before Blaise helped her hop off the stage.

Harry walked over and handed both Blaise and Hermione fresh pints. “Good job, you two. This year might actually be tolerable.”

Blaise laughed, “Thanks, Potter. We try. We still have classes and NEWTs, so it’s not all fun and games.”

“I think I’m rubbing off on you, Blaise,” Hermione said in jest.

“And I’m rubbing off on you. Putting all the responsibility on the underclassmen while we party?” Blaise reminded her.

“We did all this, we deserve a break,” she said before taking a big gulp of her ale.

Draco walked up and extended his hand to Harry, “Potter.”

Harry returned the gesture. “Malfoy.”

“Blaise, you’re much better at this job than I was,” Draco said with a bit of defeat.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You didn’t have Granger. She’s a genius,” Blaise raised his pint and clinked it with hers.

“Yeah, I didn’t,” Draco said awkwardly and swallowed. “Um, I gotta go. Need to talk to Goyle about something.”

“See  you later,” Hermione said.

Draco turned heel and walked away quickly.

“Well that was odd,” Harry pointed out.

Blaise downed his beer to avoid saying anything.

—xoxox—

With the first of September falling in the middle of the week, Hermione and Blaise reminded their classmates to take it easy the first night. Truthfully, some of them were still drunk from the pub and went to bed with little resistance. Once everyone had gone to bed, the two of them shared a nightcap to celebrate a very successful first day on the job.

Their first day began with competency examinations for the entire school, with exception to first years. The Board of Governors needed to assess how the past year affected every student’s progress and if alterations needed to be made to the curriculum. Naturally, Hermione settled back into the routine of academia. The surprise examinations felt like putting on her favorite jumper. For Harry, Ron, Dean, and many other students who spent last year on the run, the transition was difficult. While they excelled at practical exams in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, written exams wore them down and challenged their memory. Of all the tests, none were as difficult as the practical potions exam; even Hermione doubted her abilities. While being on the run for several months, she was never afforded the time to practice the patient, precise art of potion making.

After a full day of back-to-back exams, the eighth year students were exhausted and looking forward to hanging out at their compound and knocking back a few butterbeers. On their way down to the lifts, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were approached by Luna and Ginny. Harry side-stepped his friends and met his girlfriend to remind her of how much he missed her. He pulled her into his arms, planting sweet kisses on lips, chin, and neck. Their public display of affection was uncomfortable to their friends, but to the passing fourth years, it was seeing their favorite celebrity couple in real life. Their giggles snapped Harry and Ginny out of their hallway snog session.

“Run along,” Hermione said in a caring, yet authoritative voice to the younger girls.

“So where are you headed to?” Ginny asked, then planted another kiss on Harry’s lips.

“ _Oi!_ Get a room, you two. Actually. No. Don’t get a room. Just stop snogging. Stop touching altogether,” Ron still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of his sister and best friend being a couple. Even worse, a couple that couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

“Oh, Ronald,” Hermione, rolled her eyes, exasperated. She shifted her attention to Luna and Ginny. “We were just heading down to our common room. I would love to invite you but only eighth years are allowed.”

“Why is that?” Luna asked inquisitively with a dreamy look in her eye.

Suddenly Blaise butted into the conversation and mockingly said, “Because it’s for grown-ups only, Lovegood.”

Ginny scowled back at Blaise, then elbowed Harry in the ribs for snickering at the comment.

“Oh, come on, Blaise. Hermione,” Ginny pleaded, “I’m seventeen, legal wizarding age. Really, why is it eighth years only?”

“I think they were granted privileges that we weren’t. Is that right?” said Luna, always one to point out the obvious.

“Right you are,” Hermione verified. At that moment, Draco walked past the group locking eyes with her and didn’t break contact until he couldn’t turn his head any further.

Ginny noticed and said, “Did Malfoy just—”

“—Check you out?” Ron interrupted.

“No...” Hermione responded.

Blaise cut off the group before they could speculate any further, “Come on, Granger. We need to finish those prefect schedules. See you at the meeting at half past five—Weasley, Weasley, Lovegood.” He gave Luna a wink.

“Bye guys!” Hermione told her friends.

The Head Boy then hooked his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and escorted her down to the lifts.

“They’re not a thing, are they?” Ginny asked.

“I don’t think so,” Luna said plainly. “There is nothing about their energy that reads romantic. Strong collaborators, yes. But, I do think he is planning something in the relationship department, not for himself, but for a friend.”

“How did you get all that from a five-minute conversation, Luna?” Harry asked.

“I just have a feeling,” she shrugged.

“All I have to say is that it better not be Malfoy,” Ron huffed. “Then I’ll kill both Zabini and the ferret.”

—xoxox—

As Blaise and Hermione stood in the lift, he leaned against the wall and asked Hermione, “So...Lovegood? She seeing anyone?”

The corner of her lip curled into the most devilish of smiles, “Why do you ask?”

“She’s cute, sees through bullshit, but does it in a way that doesn’t make you feel like an idiot. She intrigues me,” he said coolly, buffing his nails against his robes.

“Hate to tell you, but she’s seeing Rolf Scamander. They met over the summer at the anniversary of his grandfather’s book release.”

“So she’s into wild animals?” he inquired with a hint of naughtiness.

“I’m not saying anything,” she chuckled. A memory popped into her mind and her demeanor changed completely. Hermione sighed and said, “Just tread carefully with her, even if it’s just friendship. She’s not ready to make a lot of new friends right now and is still coping with what happened earlier this year—the kidnapping.”

The color drained from his face and his charismatic grin faded. “You mean when the Death Eaters held her hostage at Draco’s house?”

“Yeah.” Hermione looked down at her feet and her body language tensed.  

Blaise wasn’t expecting the mood to change so drastically, so he did the one thing he could and gave her a hug. “Hey. I know. I know what happened. Draco told me all about it. He hates what happened and beats himself up daily.”

“He told me. I’m doing the best I can to move from it and forgive him, truly. But it’s not easy,” she said resting her head on his chest as her eyes watered.

The lift doors opened and Draco was waiting on the other side. To his shock and surprise, he saw one of his best friends holding the girl he refused to admit he fancied. He didn’t say a word. Draco looked at them both and stormed off to his room.

The Head Boy and Head Girl let go of each other. Hermione was shocked at Draco’s behavior and began to get defensive. “Why is he so mad? Does he not like seeing a filthy mudblood like me being friends with you?”

Blaise couldn’t help but laugh as they walked out of the lift. “For someone so brilliant, you can be kind of an idiot.”

“Hey!” She stomped. “I’m not an—”

“He likes you, Granger. Like, _likes you_ ,” Blaise explained. “He’s not going to admit it to you or his friends because he hasn’t even admitted it to himself.”

She stood there gobsmacked, “You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie about that? I gotta go talk him down. Will you be in the study lounge? We need to finish those schedules.”

“Yes. I’ll work on them until you get back,” she replied, uneasily as she didn’t know how to process everything.

“Okay. See you in a bit,” and he took off in a run.

“He’s always running…”

—xoxox—

 _Bang! Bang! Bang!_ Blaise pounded on Draco’s door. “Drake. Open up! Draco! Come on.”

“Fuck off, Blaise,” He pouted from the other side of the door.

“Fine, hard way it is. _Alohomora!_ ” he cast, but nothing happened.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Draco laughed

“Then stand back,” Blaise paused to give him a moment to rethink his stubbornness. He drawled the next spell out as slowly as possible “ _Con—frin—_ ”

Draco threw the door open, “For Merlin’s sake. Can’t you leave me alone? Do you really have to threaten to blow the whole dorm apart?”

“I’m not leaving you alone because you’re being a tosser. When Draco Malfoy is lost in his own thoughts, he becomes dangerous. So sit the fuck down and listen to me,” Blaise demanded.

“The authority is going to your head,” Draco pouted.

“At least I have a head. Yours is all full of sawdust. Now listen. Nothing’s going on between Granger and me.”

“Hmph.”

“Yeah, and you acting like this just proves you like her.”

Draco didn’t respond.

“That’s what I thought. We were talking about Lovegood, and then Hermione brought up Lovegood’s kidnapping, then she got upset thinking about what happened at your house. She’s trying, Draco. She really is. It’s not easy to forgive shit like that.”

Draco started shaking, and his eyes started to water. Completely overcome with fury, he punched the wall and flopped on the bed rubbing his face. “Ugh, Blaise. Why her?”

“ _Reparo_ ,” Blaise mended the hole Draco created. “What do you mean, _why her_?”

“Of all the girls at this school, why her? Why do I fancy her? Why does she have to be a muggleborn? Why does she have to be better than me at everything? Why does she look so cute when she’s...well, all the time. Why does she have to be Potter’s best friend? Why did she have to be the one my cunt of an aunt had to torture and slice up? Why do our paths keep crossing in the absolute shittiest of ways?” His voice was desperate.

“Draco. I’m not going to explain how attraction and fate work. But what I am going to tell you is that you have an entire school year to figure shit out and make a move.”

“Until Christmas.”

“What do you mean until Christmas?”

“Theo gave me a deadline, remember? If I don’t ask her out by then, he’s going to make a move.”

“He’s going to hold you to it.”

“I know.”

“Well loverboy, nut up and come talk to her. We’re talking about prefect shit anyway.”

“Do you think she knows I like her?”

“Considering I told her, yeah.”

“Fuck. I hate you.”

“I know.”

—xoxox—

When Blaise and Draco arrived at the study lounge, Hermione was standing over a table with papers and charts strewn everywhere along with pots of red, blue, green, gold, and black ink. She looked up and smiled at the two Slytherins. Blaise pushed Draco forward, encouraging him to talk to Hermione. The annoyed backward glance Draco gave was pure entertainment for Blaise.

Draco straightened himself up, as he tried to figure out what to say to Hermione, but she spoke first. “Draco,” she paused. His heart jumped a little at her calling him by his first name. “I don’t want anything to be weird between us.”

Draco’s mind raced and responded to everything she said in his head, but couldn’t manage to say it aloud. _Me too._

She continued, “I’m just dealing with a lot of things personally and processing my emotions is just—just—hard. You know?”

_You have no idea._

“I just don’t think I’m in the right headspace for a relationship.”

_Shit._

“But…”

_There’s a ‘but?’_

“That doesn’t mean I don’t like you.”

_You think I’m hot, don’t you?_

Hermione looked at him funny as his face contorted into different expressions, “Could we just start by becoming friends? We’ve never tried that before.”

_Yeah, I’d like that._

Wondering if he heard her, she asked him again. “Draco? What do you think?”

“Yes!” he said almost too enthusiastically. He tried to relax and act cool, “Friends is good.”

“Great. So can you help Blaise and me with these schedules?”

“I’d be happy to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! Feel free to leave me a response here, but I'm also on [Tumblr](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) and [Facebook](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	3. Group Study

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone following this story! It means a lot. The story is still the same as the Strictly Dramione Spring Fest piece and will start to change up a little by chapter 5.

Although Draco had promised not to let things get weird, they did. He was extra polite and cordial. The model of a perfect gentleman. The change in behavior was so drastic; it was laughable. At dinner, he couldn't help but look across the table and stare at her back while she sat with the Gryffindors.

Blaise, Greg, and Theo gave each other knowing looks that they needed to intervene. When dinner was over, Draco hopped up quickly, ready to catch up to Hermione, but Greg had snatched him by the back of the shirt. “Slow down, Romeo.” He cackled.

Draco shrugged him off. “What? I have patrol! And I need to catch up with—”

“Pansy. Who is over there. Talking to Michael Corner and Justin Finch-Fletchley,” Blaise pointed out. “Come on, mate. Pull it together.”

“With your creepy ogling and old-fashioned courtship rituals, I might not need until Christmas,” Theo teased. “You’ll scare her off by the end of the week, and I'll be taking her out for drinks on Saturday.”

“I don't know what you are talking about!” 

Blaise attempted to calm him down. “Draco, I get it. You have no idea how to act around a girl you’ve been a total prick to the entire time you've known each other. But don't try and pretend you're someone else either. Be Draco. Snarky, funny, smart, creative, secretly cares about his friends but tells us to fuck off, Draco. Yeah, you've made an outrageous amount of bad decisions, but you're not a bad guy. Show her the Draco we know.”

“But don't call her an arsehole,” Theo chimed in.

“Or call her mother fat,” Greg said.

“Or the M-word,” Blaise reminded him sternly.

“What if she still doesn't like me?” Draco already sounded defeated.

“Then you would have known you tried, and some obstacles were too tough to get around,” Blaise clapped him on the shoulder.

Theo put a hand on his other shoulder and said, “And you can live vicariously through me as I snog her in the halls and shag her in my dorm.” 

With lightning fast reflexes, Theo turned and ran out of the great hall with Draco right on his tail.

—xoxox—

As NEWT level courses tended to have small class sizes, the eighth years shared many classes with the seventh years. The examinations had proven that the eighth year students who were repeating were at an advantage. Professor McGonagall and the rest of the teaching staff decided that group and partner study would be the best way to catch up the seventh years and the ‘truants,’ as the Ministry called them last year. 

Professor Slughorn was over the moon to see the Golden Trio and finally extended an invitation to Slug Club to Ron. Harry had been paired up with Blaise, Ron with Daphne, and Draco almost fell out of his stool when he heard he would be working with Hermione for the first term. 

“Mister Malfoy, are you alright?” Slughorn asked.

“Yes, Professor. I think this stool just has a wobbly leg,” Draco tried to hide his embarrassment.  

Hermione smiled as she took the seat next to him. “Hi, partner.”

“Um, hi,” he replied.  _ Be cool. Be yourself, _ he reminded himself. He licked his lips and regained his confidence. “You’re in good hands, Granger. I was top of the class in your absence.”

“We’ll see if you stay on top,” she said coyly. 

_ I will gladly let you get on top. _

“Head girl, head of the class,” she winked. 

_ Please stop staying head. Merlin, that wink is cute.  _

“Draco? No snarky comment?”   

He could smell her strawberry lip balm, and he was so tempted to taste her lips. 

“Draco? What is wrong with you? If you’re going to be weird about this, I’ll ask for another partner.”

“No! Please don’t. I’m sorry. I’m trying not to let this get weird, but you—oh nevermind,” he snapped himself out of his girl-crazy haze. “Potions. If you want to that Outstanding on your NEWTs, you’re not going to get a better partner than me. Slughorn already had me working on material beyond NEWT levels by November of last year. Most of the infirmary’s stores — I brewed.”

“Impressive, Malfoy. I guess I have some catching up to do,” she turned back to face Professor Slughorn and looked at Draco from the corner of her eye. “I guess you’re going to have to tutor me, partner.”

“Is the brilliant Hermione Granger asking for study help?” Draco asked smugly. 

She sighed and tried to hide her disappointment, “Professor Slughorn didn’t say it out loud, but there is only one reason I would be paired with the best potions student. It’s because I did the worst on the practical exam.”

“That can’t be true—” Draco started to say but was interrupted by their teacher. 

“Now that I have you all partnered up, your first assignment is a rather simple ones, but I do like a bit of symbolism.  _ The Draught of Peace  _ to calm the mind,  _ Essence of Dittany _ to heal wounds, and  _ Restoration Potion _ to revert damage done. You have three hours.”

Hermione’s smile beamed once more, happy to be at school. “Slughorn and his poetic nature. I’ll get the ingredients you grab the cauldrons and start the fires?”

“How about you sit and read, refresh yourself on the subject matter, and I’ll get everything we need,” he said putting his hand on her shoulder before heading to the storage cupboard.

Hermione felt a little tingle where his hand was, and those little shocks began to spread throughout her body. She let out a small gasp, “Uh oh.”

—xoxox—

After lunch was Muggle Studies, the one lesson the Draco was looking forward to the least. 

“I just don’t know why we have to take this,” he pouted, “I’m never going to hang out in the muggle world or need muggle things. It’s such a waste of time.”

“Uh, oh. He’s back…” Blaise teased. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He snarled.

“You don't exactly sound like someone who’s turned over a new leaf, Draco.” Blaise pointed out.

“I have! I have no problem with muggleborns. They didn’t choose to have magic. I have accepted them into our world. But why is muggle studies mandatory?” Draco still couldn’t fathom this change in curriculum. 

“You think muggles have different food than us?” Goyle asked.

“Dunno. Probably,” Blaise answered. “But it should be a fun class. I promise. McGonagall told Granger and me what to expect this year. It's going to be a lot of hands-on learning and excursion.”

“Hands-on you say…” Theo’s ears perked up. “I'm actually looking forward to taking this class.”

“Yeah?” Greg asked. “Why?”

“Who knows. I might marry a nice muggleborn girl. I'll need to know how to act around her family. She might want our kids raised in both worlds...but you know, it's totally up to Hermione.”

_ “Petrificus Totalus!” _ Draco cast in a fit of jealousy.

Theo’s petrified form fell face first, reeling from Draco's sneak attack. The culprit, on the other hand, was laughing hysterically.

“For fuck’s sake, Draco!” Blaise hollered. He bent down to release Theo from the body bind. As the movement returned to Theo’s body, his nose started to bleed profusely. Blaise cast a spell to reset his friend’s broken nose, “You know you deserved that. You honestly thought you could be a prick for an entire term without him hexing you?”

At that moment, Hermione was walking past the four boys with her arms full of what appeared to be muggle magazines and photo albums. When she saw the blood, she dropped down next to Theo and Blaise and started rifling through her small beaded bag. “Oh, my goodness! Nott, what happened.”

“Oh, I tripped,” looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. “I’m such a klutz. I think the floor is a bit uneven here from the renovations.”

“You’re probably right. Lucky for you, I saved some dittany from potions this morning.” She tilted his head back and added a few drops to his nostrils. The pain and bleeding went away, and she cast a scourgify to clean up the remnant, drying blood. “Better?”

“Loads,” he started to stand up, with Blaise and Hermione to assist him. “Hermione,  to thank you, may I carry your things to class?” 

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Nott,” she said hesitantly. “They’re not really that heavy.”

“Theo, or Theodore if you like. Please. I insist.” 

“Sure, Theo,” she agreed. He picked up the magazines and albums she had dropped on the floor in a hurry. He then extended his free arm. Cordially, she took it but gave a backward glance at Draco. Her face looked as though Theo’s advances were completely a surprise and she was unsure of his intent. 

Draco balled hands into fists, but Blaise grabbed him by the wrist and shook his head. 

The Head Boy whispered in his ear, “No. Just wait. I promise.”

Malfoy relaxed and nodded, as he tried to calm down watching Hermione walk away, and Theo moving closer and closer to the lead.

—xoxox—

“Good afternoon class! I am Professor Figg. Many of you may not know me or haven’t heard my surname before; it’s because I’m a squib and my husband was a muggle. I’ve been living as a muggle since before the first Wizarding War, but I have never lost touch with our world. I was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and was tasked with a very important job.”

The students murmured and sat on the edge of their seats looking forward to the rest of her story.

“I was Harry’s neighbor and his babysitter when he was younger,” she beamed much to his embarrassment as his classmates snickered, and ‘aww’-ed. “Dumbledore, rest his soul, placed me and my late husband on Privet Drive to keep an eye on him while he lived with his aunt and uncle. 

“Because I’ve had one foot in the magical world and one in the muggle world most of my adult life, the headmistress and board of governors offered me the position directly. I’m honored and flattered to teach you wonderful students.”

Once again, the students talked amongst themselves intrigued by what this class would be like for the rest of the year. 

Interrupting their conversations, the professor continued, “My this is a large class—but there is a reason that we combined the seventh and eighth years.  You will be working in groups of four with a muggleborn or half-blood student as your group leader. Can I have my assistants make their way up to the class?”

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and a few seventh years Draco and his friends didn’t recognize, made their way Professor Figg. She handed them each a piece of parchment. All of them seemed pleased and eager to make their announcements. Draco sat, nervously tapping his heels up and down, wondering who he would be his assigned group leader. Obviously, he would love to spend time with Hermione but worried about saying the wrong thing about muggles and putting her off for good. Dean, he’d also sent an apology letter to, but hadn’t had a face-to-face reconciliation about the detainment at Malfoy Manor. He wouldn’t mind the others as he didn’t have any bad blood with them, but he had a feeling it would be Potter. Harry Potter would be the perfect person to school Draco Malfoy on the ways of muggle life and also put him in his place if he got out of hand. Dread began to fill Draco until he heard Hermione speak. 

She cleared her throat and tucked a curl behind her ear. “Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy, and Blaise Zabini, you’re with me. We’ll be over there,” she said pointing at a small cluster of desks. 

It felt like Christmas. Not only was she his partner in potions, but in Muggle studies too. He had the biggest dopiest smile which he gladly showed Theo. The young Mister Nott leaned back in his chair and huffed. As each group leader read off their lists, Blaise came behind Draco and clapped him on the back. “I told you this class would be fun.” 

“You knew? About the assignments?” he asked while gathering his things to meet Hermione at their group station. 

“Yeah, well, because of yours and Goyle’s situations, Granger, Potter, and I had to get special permission from the Ministry to be your chaperones,” Blaise explained, “This class will have a lot of off-premises learning in the second term.” 

A streak of blonde came whizzing back them and went straight to Hermione and dragged her back to the professor. 

“I don’t think Lovegood is happy to be in our group,” Draco observed her tense body language and refusal to acknowledge the young men. 

—xoxox—

“Luna, what’s going on?” Hermione asked, worried about her friend. Luna’s fidgety behavior was unlike anything she’d ever seen from the girl.  

“Hermione, Professor,” she whispered with worry in her voice. “I’m sorry. Can I be moved to another group? I—I don’t feel comfortable working with Malfoy.” 

“Oh, Luna…” Hermione sighed, already knowing what this was about. 

“Miss Lovegood, is it?” the professor asked. Luna nodded in reply. Hermione and Mrs. Figg blocked Luna from the view of their class so that no one could witness their conversation. “Miss Lovegood, these groups were put together for very specific reasons. Professors, members of the Ministry, and even parents had a say in this matter—your father included.”

“It’s true, Luna. Your dad reached out to me, and he wanted me to help you find a way to deal with your stress and trauma,” Hermione said as she took her friend’s hand.

The professor continued. “I know all about your ordeal with the Death Eaters last year and Mister Malfoy’s involvement. We know it will be difficult, but we are urging you both to attempt to confront your fears.”

“I’m here for you. I have things I’m trying to work through, too. Malfoy and I already had a talk about everything. He knows I haven’t forgiven him yet, but I’m trying. Can you try? You don’t have to forgive, but talking things out might help,” Hermione said reassuringly. 

“You’re making yourself very vulnerable right now Hermione, and that’s something you don’t do,” Luna stated, causing Hermione to laugh.

“I guess you can say that. I have this new role of head girl and heroine. I have to be more open and understanding,” Hermione admitted. 

“No, that’s not it,” Luna put her finger on her chin and pondered.   

“Alright girls. Go. The boys are waiting for you,” Their professor shooed them off. 

—xoxox—

Being the pureblood gentlemen they were, they stood before the ladies took their seats. Blaise pulled out Luna’s chair, and Draco pulled out Hermione’s. 

“Oh, _ that’s _ it,” Luna said absentmindedly.

“What’s it?” Blaise inquired.

Luna nudged her head to their friends across the table. Hermione and Draco were engaged in some superfluous chit-chat about the weather and couldn’t manage to look each other in the eye. 

Blaise stifled a laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Interesting. How long?” She looked at him curiously.

“Him, longer than he’ll ever admit. Her, can’t be sure.”

Hermione saw Blaise and Luna talking as they covered their mouths, and kept looking back at her and Draco. It was suspicious, and she didn’t like it. 

“Boys and Girls! I’m sorry. I mean  _ Young Ladies and Gentlemen _ , now that you are all situated with our groups, I will discuss this year’s curriculum. It is fairly simple to understand. We’ll be discussing practical muggle customs and topics such as pop culture, politics, food, sports, economics, currency, and technology. We won’t be going over history, but you are encouraged to read up on coinciding timelines. You’ll be very surprised as to how our history has secretly influenced muggle history for over a millennium. But today, your group leaders have something special to share with you, a glimpse into their muggle lives. Feel free to ask them or myself questions.”  

Hermione smiled she spread out everything she brought: a photo album, a children’s book, a tennis magazine, a science and technology magazine, a  teen beauty magazine, and an application to Oxford University. “This would have been my life if I never got my letter,” she stated. “I love the game of tennis and I play it when I’m home with my dad.”

“What’s tennis?” Blaise asked. 

Hermione flipped through the magazine and showed her a wide shot of Wimbledon. “To me, it’s an intimate, fast-moving, calculated game. Think of having the mental strategy of a chess player, but being as fast as a chaser, but the reflexes of a beater. It’s usually played on-on-one, or you can play doubles.” She then went on to explain the rules of the game. They boys would interject frequently, both being athletes, fascinated by the game but also defensive of their beloved Quidditch. Luna flipped through and marveled at the magazine, appreciating the photography style and layout. Being the daughter of a publisher, she enjoyed seeing a new perspective of graphic design and journalism.

The teen beauty magazines were surprisingly fascinating for the boys. Muggle girls were so open about understanding their bodies, sex, and relationships. The girls in the magazines looked so confident in their short shorts and crop tops and fitted floral dresses with spaghetti straps. Draco started to imagine Hermione in the muggle clothing and asked, “So, do you dress like this when you’re not at school?”

Blaise knew what Draco was trying to get at and suppressed a laugh.  

“I mean, yeah. Maybe not some of the crazy stuff, but stuff like this and that...oh that’s cute,” she pointed at a girl in jeans and a cropped jumper with heeled boots and another wearing a tartan dress with a denim jacket. “Sorry, sidetracked. But I never wear robes when not at school. Not even when I visit the Weasleys. Muggle clothing is far more comfortable.”

Blaise pondered for a moment and said, “Granger, I think we should go to a muggle high street and go shopping for research.”

“That’s a great idea, Blaise,” Hermione agreed.

“Oh! Can we also go to a muggle art and office supply store?” Luna asked enthusiastically.

“Actually, I already had that planned for our next class, so, yes. I’m picking up a few things over the weekend when I visit my mum and dad.”

“You’re not spending the first weekend here?” Draco asked sounding a bit dejected. 

“No. Honestly, I don’t imagine spending most weekends at Hogwarts unless there is a big exam or Quidditch match. I’m trying to catch up on lost time with my parents,” she explained. 

Draco forced a smile as his heart dropped a little. He was hoping to use the weekends to get to know her better and finally get her to forgive him. 

Blaise sensed the change in his friend’s enthusiasm and changed the topic quickly. “Okay Granger, what are these?” he asked, grabbing the application and science magazines. 

“When I was little, I knew I wanted to help people and also make a change in the world. So, I dreamed of being a doctor, but one working in research trying to eradicate disease. Comparatively, think of a healer whose specialty was potions development. Oxford was my dream school. I love how old and steeped in history it is,” she thought wistfully of the little girl in a white lab coat running around her parents’ house performing ‘surgery’ on her dolls and stuffed animals. 

“Good thing for us you ended up at Hogwarts,” Luna beamed. “Couldn’t you still do that? Be a healer and create new potions?”

Hermione smiled at how sweet Luna was, “I wanted to before the war, but my goals have changed a bit. I’m thinking of going into law and politics.”

“I guess the same goes for me,” Luna started, “I always knew I wanted to take over my father’s magazine, but I want to split it into two magazines. One that will continue the more mysterious side of magic and creatures, and a new magazine focused on honest investigative journalism.”

“That’s fantastic, Luna!” Hermione said excitedly. “What about you, Blaise? Draco?”

“I’m taking a gap year,” Blaise joked. “Going to travel. Discover where my talents are best suited. I thought about sports journalism since I have a passion for it, but my mother has so many contacts in the world of fashion, I could get a job as an intern at a fashion house, designing.”

“You’re an artist?” Luna’s interest piqued. 

“Yeah, he doodles non-stop,” Draco interjected. “He’s a bit of a mother hen and also fixes all of our hems and tailors our robes.”

Blaise chuckled, “I admit it. That’s why they look so good. They’re utter slobs without me.”

“Blaise, you know athletic wear is big business in the muggle world,” Hermione said. 

“Really?” his eyes widened with curiosity.

“The muggle world has so many more sports, and each has special attire. They combine new technologies to create the best types of materials for each sport. Not to mention all the casual attire for training and recreation.” Hermione seemed to have found something that truly interested Blaise. 

“We’ll go to a muggle sporting shop, right?” he asked excitedly. 

“Sure.”

All eyes were on Draco now, but he hesitated a bit. He scratched his head and finally spoke. “Before Professor Snape passed, I was his apprentice and was also taking additional advanced work from Professor Slughorn,” his throat was dry and suppressed his emotions for the loss of his mentor. “They had a plan for me to apprentice with potioneers across the globe — France, Egypt, India, China, Japan, the Amazon, and with Native Americans. I was to study different potion techniques and advanced herbology. I’m fascinated with the regional availability of ingredients and their workarounds. Ha, it’s a bit geeky.”

“It’s not. That’s incredible, Draco.” Hermione had been hanging on to every word, and he never noticed. “What about now?”

“It’s a bit of a tricky subject. You know, I can’t travel unattended for a year…” he trailed off, “But I have a meeting with Slughorn and McGonagall this week and see if it’s still an option after this year ends.”

“I have to say, I’m a little jealous,” Hermione said slyly. “How many students do they allow in this program?”

“Oh, um…I was the only one. It’s not really a program,” Draco rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Sorry if this sounds arrogant, but it was Snape recognizing my talents and wanting to pass the torch, if you will. But I also think it was his plan to get me out of the country if things...well...in case... _ he _ won.” 

The group went silent for a moment as they took in Draco’s words. It occurred to both Luna and Hermione that Malfoy feared the rise of Voldemort as much as they did. 

Hermione was the one to break the awkward silence, “Well, could you tell Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slughorn that I would be interested in the apprenticeship if they do turn it into a program? It might convince me to go back on my original path.”

Draco’s ears went pink and quickly said, “Of course.” 

For their last bit of show-and-tell, Hermione showed her personal family album and book of fairy tales. They all laughed at her parent’s disco attire and feathered hair, Hermione’s baby photos, and a photo of her as a toddler surrounded by books. 

“Some things never change, do they, Granger?” Blaise joked. 

“Born that way, I guess,” she blushed, a bit embarrassed. 

They then flipped to her wearing a ridiculous hat with mouse ears in front of a gray and blue castle holding a giant balloon of a mouse. The three purebloods looked at her with absolute confusion. She laughed realizing how absurd the concept of Walt Disney World would be to wizards and witches. Hermione took out the book of fairy tales and explained what animation was. Explaining who Walt Disney was and what compelled him to build theme parks confused them even further, and the fact he could create ‘magic’ without magic was outright incomprehensible. At that point, she knew she  _ had _ to take them to Disney. Maybe not Orlando, but they could easily portkey to Disneyland Paris. She giggled thinking about how funny it would be to let three purebloods out in a muggle theme park—even if it was mainly for her own entertainment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! Feel free to leave me a response here, but I'm also on [Tumblr](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) and [Facebook](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	4. Mother Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could Narcissa Malfoy and Jean Granger have to say about these recent developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the new readers and the fun comments you've been leaving here and on Facebook. It means a lot!

They had made it through the week. The rivalry between Theo and Draco intensified after Hermione was paired with young Mister Nott in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Draco hoped to get paired with her in at least one more class, alas, that was not the case. Her other class partners included Neville Longbottom in Herbology, Michael Corner in Charms, Ernie Macmillan in Transfiguration, but nothing was funnier than when it was announced Pansy would be her partner in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The resounding cackles, hoots, and chuckles from the class as Hermione twirled her wand and sauntered to take her seat next to Pansy, almost caused the poor girl to run out of the class. Hermione handled it with style and class. She gave Pansy a wink and said, “This is going to be fun.”

After a week of classes, studying, and just the stress of getting back into a routine, all the eighth years were eagerly looking forward to their weekend off. Though a few were staying behind to catch up on studying and Quidditch trials, many were taking advantage of time away from the school. Hermione had her school books packed and Crookshanks in his crate, excited to see her parents and pick up more resources for Muggle Studies class.

The carriages were waiting for the young adults, ready to take them to the apparition point in Hogsmeade. Everyone saw the thestrals now, and despite their grotesque nature, they were treated affectionately. They were a reminder of a loss of innocence but also of survival and victory. Hermione rubbed the forehead of the thestral leading her carriage and gave it one of the treats Hagrid gave her. She was about to climb in when she heard hurried footsteps.

“Granger wait!” Draco huffed as he caught up to her. He held out his hand and said, “Allow me.”

She graciously accepted his offer, impressed with his gentlemanly manners. The Draco of two years ago would have probably pushed her in the mud—this was a welcome change. “Thank you, Draco. Are you heading into town?”

He was still outside of the carriage, shuffling his feet nervously, “Yes. Would you mind if I rode with you?”

“Not at all,” she smiled.

“Thank you.” Draco hoisted himself up with a little jump, displaying his athletic prowess, despite wearing a fine tailored suit and pressed robes. He noticed Hermione curiously eying his garb. “Oh, I’m meeting my mother for breakfast. She has certain...expectations.”

“Granger!” a distant voice called. Draco looked over, and saw it was Theo. It didn’t seem that Hermione noticed, so he made a clicking noise that caused the thestrals to take off.

“Did you hear something?” Hermione asked.

“Nope,” he said, feigning innocence. He leaned back, attempting to be more relaxed around her.  “So what are your plans when you get home?”

“My dad is making me American pancakes. Even ordered maple syrup from Canada. I’ve been obsessed with American breakfast since I was little.” She licked her lips, already able to taste the fluffy, buttery, pancakes.

 _She just has to show me her tongue and lips, doesn’t she?_ Before he let his internal dialogue go crazy again, he asked, “Did you travel a lot before Hogwarts?”

“Well, yes. Every summer. Even while at school. We went to the States three times before I turned twelve. Once to Orlando to go to theme parks, once to New York to see the city, then we drove up to Niagara Falls, and once to the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley. And of course, we’ve been to France and across the continent. I’m afraid that my French isn’t as fluent as it once was. I never have anyone to practice with. It was nice when Beauxbatons was here during fourth year. I got to dust off some of the rust.”

“Parlez-vous français?”

“Oui mais pas beaucoup.”

“Je vais pratiquer avec vous,” he said with a sly grin. _Smart. Practice French with her. Then I’ll have my own special thing with her that Theo can’t weasel into._

“I’d like that, Draco,” she hid a blush.

 _Is she blushing? Did French actually get her to blush? Merci!_ With a new found confidence, he kept the conversation going. “My parents have a home in France. It’s usually where we spend part of our summers. I wish they were more adventurous travelers. If they don’t have an estate and elves, they’re hopeless.”

“So what did they think of your apprenticeship plans?”

With a roll of his eyes, he put on his most sarcastic demeanor. It was one that Hermione recognized well. “Father couldn’t see the point of it as he thought I would like to be in the country to witness the Dark Lord’s ascension. Mother, on the other hand, didn’t want me to go, because that meant she would have to be alone with _them._ But under Severus’ convincing, she came around.”

“You call him, Severus.”

“Well, he was my godfather.”

“ _No!_ How did I not know that! _Ugh!_ That makes so much sense. The way he favored you!” She moved from her seat across from him and sat next to him so she could swat him on the arm playfully.

 _She’s here. Touching me. She smells so nice. Keep cool. Wow, those muggle clothes really fit her well. Her tits are really perky. Oh Merlin, no. Bunch up your robes right now._  

“Something wrong, Draco?” She asked noticing a shift in his behavior.

“No. Not at all. I was just, um, admiring your perfume and your outfit,” he choked out.

“Is that a joke? Because I’m not dressed all proper?” She became defensive.

“No! It was a genuine compliment. Honestly. What teenager actually wants to dress like this to have breakfast with their mother? I’d like to relax around her, just once.”

“Relaxed is good.” The words just spilled out of her mouth as she was now close enough to smell his cologne as well. Catching herself and shifting away from him, she said, “I guess your parents are the type to be really set in their ways.”

“You don't need to remind me,” he wanted to clam up and stop talking about them, but he couldn't control the word vomit. “I love my parents, I do. But I also hate them. Well, my father. My mother is— complicated. They raised me with this sense of superiority without ever seeing both sides of the coin. Tell me how special I am because of my name and my family. Then I get my letter. I come here, and everything defied everything they instilled in me. Poor purebloods. Rich Muggleborns. Highly intelligent, upper middle-class muggleborns,” he pauses and looks her in the eyes, “half-bloods, whose pureblood parents were cast out of their families for following their heart.”

“Like your aunt.”

“Yes. You know her, don’t you? And my cousin, Nymphadora? The one who married Professor Lupin.”

She nods her head and gives a soft laugh, “We never called her Nymphadora. She hated it. We just called her, Tonks. She was kind, brave, and so funny. She was like a big sister to Ginny and me. When she and Remus married—she brought so much light into his life.” Tears threatened to fall as she reminisced her fallen friend and mentor. Draco heard the strain in her voice and hands her his monogrammed handkerchief, “Thank you. Your Aunt Andromeda is a lovely woman. She’s raising their son, Teddy. I don't know if you know this, but Harry is his godfather and is planning on visiting them tonight after Quidditch trials.”

“I never met them. My mother and aunt haven’t spoken to each other since she ran off and got married. You know, Nymph — Tonks, was my only cousin? On both the Black and Malfoy sides,” he said wistfully, wishing he knew his whole family. “I didn’t know about Potter being Teddy’s godfather. In some bizarre way, we’re almost related, aren’t we?”

“I guess so,” she laughed. “You may not like this, but you know he inherited the Black wealth and estate from Sirius. But he’s already set aside a trust for Teddy, so much of it will be going back to the Black family.”

“Oh, I heard,” he laughed. “You would not believe the uproar from Bella—” he caught himself and doesn’t continue the anecdote.

Hermione notices his restraint and puts her hand on his knee. “Draco, I’m not afraid of names. You should know that much about me.”

He turns to her and puts his hand on her knee and said, “No. You’re not.”

“Well, when I had a sod like you teasing me since I was twelve, I couldn’t help but build up a tough skin.”

“I was a little shit. You can say it. An idiotic, self-righteous little shit, who couldn’t see past the end of my nose.”

“I think arsehole would also work or posh prick,” she joked.

They leaned closer and closer into each other as the banter continued.

“Stop pretending you’re not posh. I’ve seen your photo albums, remember. Your six bedroom, terraced home in Heathgate, international holidays, your parents meeting at University, you dreaming of attending Oxford. Oh, and you speaking French. You’re not as common as you like to pretend, Hermione Granger,” he smirked.

“After one week of casual conversation, you think you know me? Oh, Malfoy. You are just scratching the surface.” she bit her bottom lip as he moved in closer still. The carriage came to a halt, and she realized what almost happened. She scooted away and blurted, “We’re here.”

Draco ruffled his hair, unable to believe how open and honest this conversation has been and how close he came to kissing her—maybe. “It appears so. Let me get out first.” He helped her out of the carriage and walked her to the apparition point. “So when will you be back? Maybe I could meet you here. I mean, in case you need help carrying anything back to the castle.”

“Oh, um. Thanks for offering. I’m not sure, but I have my bag, so carrying things isn’t really a problem. But I’ll be back for our study session on Sunday at seven, right after dinner,” she tried to avoid his suggestion, but it was sweet. “Here’s your handkerchief. Thank you for letting me use it.”

“Keep it. I have more,” he shrugged as he put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she waved and popped out of sight.

Theo ran toward Hermione but missed his opportunity. He bent over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. “Damn it,” he panted, “What happened? What did you talk about?”

“I just pulled, into the lead, Theo,” he smirked. “Where are you headed?”

“Going into London. Need to go to Gringotts and then pick up a few things in the city.” He stood after his breathing finally regulated.

“Anything in particular?” Draco asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. This race isn’t over yet,” he said with a wink and disapparated.

“Draco,” a stern voice called to him.

 _Shit. How long has she been standing there?_ He turned his head toward Narcissa’s direction. “Hi, mum.”

She wore the universally recognized look all mothers wear when they expect an explanation—tight lips, raised eyebrows, and wide eyes. What was worse is that her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot. Draco realized she saw the whole thing and he didn’t notice his mother at all.

“Oh, ‘hi, mum,’ is it? No, ‘hello, mother, sorry I didn’t notice you, I was too busy talking to a girl and Theodore.’ Honestly, Draco. I know I didn’t raise you to be so rude to your elders—”

Before she could rattle on and lecture him, he kissed her cheek and hugged her, “Sorry, Mummy.”

Narcissa was an absolute sucker when it came to Draco, especially when he called her ‘Mummy,’ like he did when he was little. “So, was that Miss Granger you were talking to?”  

“Yes, it was,” he presented his arm to escort his mother down to the pub as the auror escorts followed behind.

“And she’s speaking to you, despite _everything_?” Narcissa was taken aback considering her own misgivings and resistance to forgiveness.

“Surprising, isn’t it? We have to work together in two of our classes, as partners. She was direct in telling me that she didn’t forgive me or our family for everything, but she is working on it. Quite diplomatic.”

“Interesting,” Narcissa drew out the word as she put the pieces together in her mind. “She's certainly more forgiving that I am. If I nearly died at the hands of a boy’s aunt, in his home, with him watching— _I_ would have murdered him the moment his defenses were down.” She saw her son grow uneasy at the comment and didn't push it further. “This young lady is quite the enigma isn't she?”

“That is one way to put it,” Draco swallowed, wondering how much prying his mother would do.

“And your carriage ride? Did you only speak of lessons?” Curiosity was getting the better of the Malfoy Matriarch.

“We discussed travel, the French language, education beyond Hogwarts, and your family. Did you know Potter is godfather to Andromeda’s grandson?” He was keen to share this with his mother as she always enjoyed being the first to hear of gossip.

“I haven't. But it's interesting that you bring up my sister. I've been doing a lot of ‘soul searching,’ if you will.” Her statement took Draco off guard. They stopped in front of the pub, and she placed her hands on his shoulders, “You are the sole Malfoy heir. The Lestrange family is as good as dead with no heirs and no chance of clemency. The Black family is dead in name but lives on through us. The Twenty-Eight are dying out, and blood status is no longer relevant. What _is_ relevant is family. I decided, I want to reconcile with my sister, and I don't give a damn what your father thinks.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Draco. A war over blood purity killed my sister, my niece, almost killed you, destroyed my marriage, and left me broken—wondering where my archaic beliefs got me. I'm not going to tell you that the prejudice is eradicated because it is impossible to change over forty years of conditioning overnight. But—”

“Yes?”

She smiled watching her son anxiously awaiting what she had to say. “Merlin, I was hoping to have this conversation over a cup of tea and a hot breakfast…”

“Mother…”

“Whatever decisions you make in your life, or who you associate with, I, your mother, will be open-minded. So if by some miracle Miss Granger not only forgives you but actually wants a relationship with you, I won't object. But I'm betting she hexes you before she goes on a date. And if she does date you, we might want to get her head checked.”

Draco stood there slack-jawed unable to believe what his mother just said. “Who are you and what have you done with Narcissa Malfoy? Also...How?”

“Draco...that day...the horror on your face when I made you identify her. And when Bella...it took everything I had to hold you back. I saw you try to lunge. I’m sorry Draco, I put you under the Imperius Curse,” she wrapped her arms around him before he could push her away. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I was trying to keep you safe. It didn’t hit me why you were so upset until after. I wasn’t even completely sure until today.”

“Mum, stop. I know what you did but I forgive you. Would I have loved to have been her hero? Probably, but I would have been a dead hero. That day haunts me, but it won’t define me,” he reassured her mother.

She pulled away and brushed her thumb against his cheek, “What a morning! Let’s go into the pub. I think the aurors are getting a bit bored of hanging outside while we have our chat. Also, I think I’m going to need to drink something a bit stronger than tea, don’t you?”

“Maybe just a bit. I have Quidditch trials after lunch.”

“Plenty of time to sober up.”

“Again, who are you?”

—xoxox—

“Dad, those pancakes were amazing! Hit the spot,” Hermione rubbed her belly, satisfied with the meal.

“As good as that place in Florida on the springs?” he asked.

“Considering I was ten when we went there, I’ll say yes. Yours were better,” Hermione beamed at her father and took another sip of coffee.

“You ate breakfast so quickly, Hermione, we couldn’t get a word out of you. How was your first week of school?” Her mother pointed out.

“Oh, brilliant. Well good...a little awkward. Um, fun? It was a lot of things, Mum,” Hermione was at a loss for words trying to define everything that happened.

“I see a story coming on,” her father said jokingly.

Hermione rubbed her face, not knowing where to start, so she changed the subject. “I thought you needed help in the garden. I could get everything done really quickly. Just a few quick spells and the fertilizer will be spread out and the repotting will be done—”

“No diversion techniques. What happened?” Her mother insisted.

“Well, Blaise, I told you about him, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” her parents said in unison.

“He’s brilliant. He’s a great partner to work with and has helped with inter-house unity in the best way possible. We share the load and he wants my input for every major decision. It’s a great working partnership. But, he has a crush on my friend Luna, who has a boyfriend. He seems like the type to wait. It doesn’t look like he’ll make any unwelcome advances.”

“That’s good,” her father noted.

“Harry and Ron have also been busy and have been working hard to put their pasts behind them too, and be respectful and friendly with everyone. Harry’s better at it than Ron, to be honest. But that’s never going to change. So for all of our classes, we have partners. I’m pretty pleased with who I was assigned with, as they were all there last year, so I think I’ll catch up quickly. But this is where my week got a lot more interesting.”

“Go on…” her mother urged.

“Two of my partners have a crush on me, and they are friends, and have some type of competition going on as to who I’m going to end up with. Part of me is completely offended as I am no prize to be won—”

“ _Aladdin_ . You’re quoting _Aladdin_ , sweetie,” her father chuckled.

Hermione laughed, realizing it to be true, “Well, one of them is smart, sweet, funny, and someone I don’t have any bad history with. He used to be so quiet, but, something changed and I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. He’s also tall and a bit lanky, but he has this really cute mischievous smile. Dimples too.”

“And…” Her mother was getting a bit annoyed with her daughter’s theatrics and pauses.

“And the other boy is Draco Malfoy.”

“The boy who you said made you cry when he called you those names?” her father said defensively.

“The boy whose home you were a prisoner of war in?” Her mother’s voice raised.

“The very same. My head tells me this is very, very bad and to not even entertain the idea. But he wrote this letter. This beautiful, well-phrased, sincere, twelve, thirteen page declaration of his apologies and professing his appreciation. Then he’s been going above and beyond to make me feel welcome, and encouraging me to push to catch up with him in Potions, and French. Mum, he speaks French and wants me to practice with him. He’s actually taking real interest in Muggle Studies with me as his group leader. Oh, I don’t know what to do. There’s just so much baggage, but I’m really seeing a new side of him.” 

“Would you say _there may be something there that wasn’t there before_?” Hugh joked.

“What is it with you and the Disney references, Hugh?” His wife laughed.

“Oh, Mum, Dad, you have no idea how much I miss silly pop culture references. Only about a quarter of the students at the school get them. But I really don't know what to do about these two. It's only the first week of school. I told them both I'm not looking to be in any kind of relationship. But then they do these really cute things that just make me smile—”

“Those are called hormones, Hermione.” Jean said bluntly.

“Mum!” Hermione was utterly embarrassed by her mother at that moment. The fact her father went pale didn't help either. Eager to change the subject she said, “...Anyway...I think I could use a bit of ‘muggle magic.’ After I run my errands today, how about we pop _Beauty and the Beast_ and _Aladdin_ in the VCR?” Hermione asked.

“Interesting choices, sweetheart. The charming prince with a beastly exterior and the unassuming diamond in the rough,” Jean shook her head. “I wonder if I should blame Disney for your taste in men...I swear we could quote those films with how often you watched them. It’s a good thing we only watch them when you were home from school. I might have gone mad.”

“So since I’m home from school, that’s a _yes_?” she playfully suggested.

“Yes. But I have some other fun things planned. Gardening, errands, manicures, then dinner and a movie at home,” Jean told her daughter.

“Ooh. What’s for dinner?” Hermione asked eagerly.

Hugh spoke, “I’m picking up takeaway. I’ll keep it within theme. I’ll get kebabs for dinner and crepes for dessert.”

“Sounds delicious,” Jean agreed with his choices.

Hermione and her dad look at each other and say in unison, “ _Try the grey stuff! It’s delicious! Don’t believe me—_ ”

“No.” Jean cut them off; she had her limitations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the chapter! Feel free to leave me a response here, but I'm also on [Tumblr](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) and [Facebook](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	5. Upping the Ante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Synopsis:**   
>  Hermione returns home from visiting her parents. Draco and Theo’s competition for Hermione’s affections intensify. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Beta:**  
>  Mama2HPBabies
> 
>  
> 
> **Songs that inspired the chapter** : A lot of Disclosure  
> 
> 
>   * [Omen – Disclosure, Sam Smith](https://open.spotify.com/track/39JfmgyEqfDznR85MXHCvO)
>   * [Willing & Able – Disclosure, Kwabs](https://open.spotify.com/track/1kvFSaPcGwMvFZ11EJhzaR)
>   * [Magnets – Disclosure, Lorde](https://open.spotify.com/track/1znygteLnMwQI2erXzQEJ7)
>   * [Bizarre Love Triangle - Live From Spotify NYC – Echosmith](https://open.spotify.com/track/5g5M6CQIy5boBdxhKo8bxU)
> 


After having dinner at her favorite restaurant with her parents, she apparated back to Hogsmeade and noticed a figure sitting on a bench with a familiar shock of white blond hair peeking from behind a book. She walked over and gently pushed the reading material away. Neither of them could hide their smiles.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” she asked.

Trying to be smooth, he stretches his arm across the back of the bench, “What makes you think I'm waiting for you?”

“The wrapped package that says ‘for Hermione’ next to the bouquet of yellow roses,” she pointed out, unable to hide her wide grin.

“Do you think you're the only girl named Hermione at this school?” He pretended to be disinterested.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Fine. I'll see you in the castle. Enjoy your date with the other Hermione.”

Draco let her take a few steps away before grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her back. “Hey, I may be the one pursuing you, but it doesn't mean I'm going to make things easy. Here. Smell them.”

Hermione took the bouquet of unopened yellow rose buds and inhaled deeply. Magically, they opened and changed from yellow to white to pale pink to lavender. She let out a little gasp, impressed by the magic and entranced by the fragrance. “Oh, Draco. These are gorgeous. How did you get it to change colors?”

 _White, pink, and lavender! Holy shit. This means..._ He did his best to hold the smirk and not let it turn into a full-blown cheesy grin. “Do you know the language of roses?”

“Enlighten me.”

“I'd rather not,” he bit his lip, happy to keep this secret to himself. “Just know, that it's good. Very good.”

“Hmm. I don't know if I like that,” she said, partially distrusting of his Slytherin nature, but doing her damnedest not to sound like a giddy girl who just received a dozen magical flowers from a cute boy. “Well, they’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“I have one more thing for you.” He passed her a package wrapped in brown paper tied with ivy and a gardenia blossom. Before she could tear into the package, he took the flower and tucked it behind her ear.

Her breath hitched as she felt his fingertips brush her ear. “Can I open it?” she asked eagerly.

“Please,” he urged her.

She opened it delicately, and her eyes opened wide at the sight of the gift, “The French edition of Moste Potente Potions.”

“Oui,” he replied. “We’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone. I can tutor you in potions _and_ we can practice our French.”

“Oh, Draco, this is so sweet. Thank you.” She didn't think anything of it as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight with the book and flowers still in her hands.

Draco couldn't believe what was happening. He put his arms around her tightly, unable to believe his luck. He nuzzled his face in her hair and whispered, “Yesss.” _Wait did I say that out loud?_

She laughed and asked, “What did you say?”

“I'm just glad you like the presents,” he said softly, not wanting to let her go. “Are you ready to go back to the castle?”

She was the first to pull away and said, “Yes, let's go. I believe we still have some studying to do.”

As much as he just wanted to entwine his fingers with hers and walk hand-in-hand to the carriages, he restrained himself. The roses had turned white meaning new beginnings, then soft pink for admiration and falling in love, then lavender for mystery and enchantment. She was falling for him, even if she didn’t know it yet. Draco Malfoy would be a perfect, patient gentleman. He presented his arm and in another pleasant twist, not only did she gladly accept the gesture, she rested her head against his arm as they walked.

—xoxox—

While in the study lounge, Draco and Hermione were chattering in bits of broken French, English, and Latin. Since walking through the castle together, they were practically attached at the hip. Their actions didn’t go unnoticed. Theo couldn’t concentrate on his potions work and kept staring at them. He was sitting with Blaise, Harry, Ron, and Daphne at another table. Hermione laughed at something Draco said and it set Theo on edge.

“What are they talking about? Since when do they speak French?” Theo grumbled.

“Hermione spoke it fluently before coming to Hogwarts,” Harry stated.

Blaise added, “And you know Draco spends every summer in France.”

“But what does it have to do with potions?”  Theo had given up studying and crossed his arms over his book. He rested his chin on his forearms and stared them down.

“I don’t know about potions, but I think it has everything to do with _chemistry_ ,” Harry joked.

“Nice one, Potter.” Blaise clapped him on the back. “You know, yesterday, I had my money on Theo, but Draco has a few tricks up his sleeve.”

“Nott, I would have bet on you, too. You don’t have any of the emotional baggage that Malfoy has. What did he do to get her all giddy? I haven’t seen her with that look since Krum,” Harry pointed out.

“I don’t know...Well, I do. He talked to her in the carriage alone yesterday morning, then waited for her to come back for around two hours with flowers and a gift.” The gears in Theo’s brain started to turn. “Alright, Draco. This is the game you want to play, game on. Emotional baggage, you say, Potter?”

“Nott, don’t play that game. Don’t bring up all the bad shit between Hermione and Malfoy. You want to work that angle, show her how a blank slate is better. Don’t do anything to make you look manipulative or trigger any, you know, traumas. You have no idea how far she’s come in the past few months,” Harry said protectively.

“He’s right, Theo,” Blaise added. “It’s not just Granger who has come a long way. Draco too. I’m not saying don’t try to pursue her, but not at the expense of their progress.”

“Fuck,” Theo grumbled. “You know, having a Slytherin head boy and model student is really cramping my style. What happened to any means to achieve our ends?”

“Yeah, but there is cunning, resourcefulness, and fraternity. Being a back-stabbing arsehole isn’t an explicit trait of ours, is it?” Blaise said with a bit of annoyance.

Theo huffed, “Noooo...but.”

“But what?” Blaise decided he wanted his words as clear as crystal, “You want Granger before Draco makes it official? Then do something about it, because he’s stepping up.”

“Fine. I’m going to my room to think.” Theo slammed his books shut and scowled as he breezed past on his way up to the dorms.  

Harry stifled a laugh. It wasn’t often he heard Slytherins fighting with each other.

Surprisingly, Ron had nothing to say on the matter. He and Daphne were completely oblivious to the conversation and were engaged in their own. The two had been bouncing back and forth between potions and the topic of family responsibility. Visiting the eighth year compound made the Slytherin miss her friends, but she knew her sister needed her. Ron joked about how he loved being separated from his sister. It wasn’t often he ever had anything to himself. They were discovering they had more in common than they ever thought.

—xoxox—

At breakfast the next day, Theo passed Hermione a note, gave her a wink, and said, “Reply to me the same way.”

Her curiosity piqued, she unfolded the intricately folded parchment to reveal an entire message written in runes. She looked up to see him sitting across from her and mouthed, “This is awesome!” Theo pointed at the parchment, then at his watch, letting her know that she was on a deadline. She understood what he was implying, searched for something to write with, and started translating.

Theo turned to Draco and said, “You want to have a secret language with her? Well, two can play that game.”

“Son of a—” Draco almost cursed, instead, he calmed down. “Just try and catch up Theo. It’s not going to happen for you.”

“We’ll see.”

—xoxox—

Draco, Blaise, and Luna marveled at the muggle art and office supplies—specifically the fountain pens, index cards, and refill paper and binders. They were seriously questioning the whole quill and parchment situation. Hermione laughed as they thoroughly enjoyed the highlighters, colored markers, and the ability to erase pencil marks. She felt as she gave a group of toddlers a new toy.

“Okay. Seriously. These are far superior school supplies,” Draco blurted. “Quills and parchment. Carrying around pots of ink? Never again. I want a fountain pen. A real nice one. Can you get one made with a family crest?”

“Absolutely,” she answered. “It will set you back a few galleons, which will have to be converted to pounds.”

“Considering the small fortune I’ve spent on replacement uniforms and school bags because the ink wouldn’t come off, even by magical means, yeah, not a problem.” He then started mumbling, “Muggles. Geniuses. Oh, my father will hear about this. About how fucking stupid he is and what kind of idiot supremacist can't realize how amazing these things are and how much easier our lives would be. No... he’ll probably say...”

Hermione leaned over to Blaise, “Does he know he rants about his dad like that?”

“His daddy issues run so deep, he has no idea when he does this,” Blaise explained.

“Should we let him know he’s doing it, or help him?” Luna asked.

“Let it run its course,” Blaise assured them. “He’ll wear himself out.”

—xoxox—

Theo loved Arithmancy and Ancient Runes; mostly because he had Hermione completely to himself. The class sizes were so small, and the two of them were the only non-Ravenclaws in the class. They had walked together from breakfast where she had answered his puzzle and gave him one to solve.

Peeking up from her assigned translations, she looked up and said, “You know, Theo, that was a lot of effort to ask to sit with me at the Gryffindor table, but it was sweet. And the answer is yes.”

“Really?” he said trying not to sound too excited. “And Draco?

“Theo, I told both you and Draco, I’m not looking for a relationship, but I am open to friendships,” she put her hand on his. “I don’t see anything wrong with becoming better-acquainted friends.”

He turned his hand over and was now rubbing the inside of her palm with the pad of his thumb. Goosepimples started to raise on her skin at his gentle touch. “Teach me how to play tennis.”

“You want to learn how to play tennis?”

“I want to learn how to do something _you_ love. I bought a racquet, balls, those shorts with the special pockets, trainers, everything.”

“You did?” An impressed, yet cheeky smile grew upon her face.

Bordering an emotion somewhere between proud and embarrassed, he explains, “On Saturday. I went into muggle London—by myself, made a complete arse of myself at the shop, but, um, yeah.”

The idea of this pureblood wizard in a muggle sporting shop making a complete fool of himself for her was rather endearing. “Theo, why didn’t you tell me? I was home for the weekend. I would have gone with you.”

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise,” his eyes met hers. He let down the humorous mask he wore and was genuine with her.

“Okay, but where will we play? Are we just going to play on the weekends down at my racquet club?” she asked.

“That or I can build you a court here at school.”

“What do you mean build me a court?”  

“Exactly what I said. It wouldn’t just be for you, but for all the muggleborns at this school. I’ve been trying to figure out how to start rebuilding my family name. Hermione, my father is in Azkaban for war crimes, my mother’s dead, and I’m an eighteen-year-old with a fortune and legacy that needs to be built. I have the opportunity to do something good,” his eyes pierced hers, “You have no idea the effect you have on people, do you?”

“I…” she was at a complete loss for words.

“I’m not just trying to impress you,” he says truthfully. “What I’m trying to say is, you inspire me,” he paused and revealed how we planned on bringing pride back to not only the Nott name but also Slytherin House. “McGonagall and the Board of Governors are reviewing my proposal to build a full sports complex next to the Quidditch pitch. The Department of Magical Games and Sports is already supporting it. The Nott Athletic Complex will hopefully break ground by next month. And you had a part in that.”

“Me, what did I do? Don’t get me wrong, this idea is amazing and beautiful, but you deserve all the credit.”

“Blaise told me that for someone so brilliant, you miss a lot of things right in front of you,” he took the hand he hadn’t let go of, pulled it to his lips, and kissed it softly. “Friends works for now. Even if you do pick Draco, I’m going to persist until you say stop. You’re not the type of girl you let slip away, you’re a girl worth fighting for, and I intend to.”

“Wow,” was all she could muster. He just made this so much harder. Quiet Theo made way for jovial, carefree Theo, and now sincere, determined Theo has made his entrance. There were so many layers to him, and she was so tempted to pull them all back.

—xoxox—

When Draco saw Theo sitting between Hermione and Potter at the Gryffindor table, his grip almost shattered his goblet of pumpkin juice. Theo was being his funny, charming self, getting along with the lions and lionesses as if they had been pals for years. Theo was resting one hand on the bench with Hermione’s fingertips touching his. Just innocently brushing. Too afraid to hold hands, but wanting that connection. They were whispering in each other’s ears and sharing flirtatious smiles.

 _I might as well admit defeat. I was an idiot thinking she could forget about our past._ He thought to himself. He stood up and told his friends, “I’m not hungry. I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, okay, Draco,” Blaise said with concern in his voice. He turned to Pansy and Greg, “Hey pack some sandwiches, or stop by the kitchens and see if the elves will pack a basket.”

“Sure,” they said in unison.

It didn’t take Blaise long to catch up with Draco. He was dragging his feet, sulkily shuffling through the corridors. “Draco, what’s going on?”

“I was a fool, Blaise. Why did I even think I had a chance?” he started to choke up.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to the eighth year terrace.

—xoxox—

While on the terrace, Blaise lit two cigarettes with his wand and handed one to Draco. He massaged his temples as he looked at his crestfallen friend, unable to believe the man before him was indeed Draco Malfoy. “Giving up so easily?”

“Come on, Blaise. We both knew this was a stupid idea. I should have just kept it to myself,” he let out a humorless laugh, “Me thinking she could possibly like me,” he sighed and took a drag of the cigarette, “Even my mother doesn’t think she would fall for me. You know what she said?”

“What nugget of wisdom does the great Narcissa Malfoy have for us?”

“That Hermione would probably need her head checked if she fell for me. Oh, she also said, if it were her, she would have killed me the moment my defenses were down. I guess in a way, Hermione did. This is painful.”

“A broken heart?”

“A _broken heart_? Merlin. Don't make me sound more pathetic than I actually am. But why does it feel like this? I didn’t feel any of this when I broke up with Pans, and we’re still friends. This is something else.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Let her go, I guess. She doesn't feel the same way. I can't make her like me.”

“She likes you.”

“She likes Theo more.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. How do you know?”

Draco shrugged his shoulders since he was unsure of the real answer.

“Okay,” Blaise readied himself to give his friend another helping of reality. “I've been giving you and Theo the same advice. Bring everything you have to the table, talk to her, and let her make the decision. Don't give up until she says to. Can you honestly say you laid all your cards on the table? Does she know how you feel, or how long you felt this way? What can you offer her that he can't? You do all this and she says no, then you give up. This is exactly what he's doing. He's not holding back. No secrets. I know you, Draco. You’re holding back. Aren’t you?”

Draco flicked the cigarette butt away and muttered, “A little.”

“Then stop. You have a study date tomorrow in the potions lab, right?”

“Yes.”

“Tell her. Even if she gets uncomfortable and doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Sounds like it’s going to hurt.”

“Oh, it will.”

“For someone without a girlfriend, you seem to know a lot about relationships.”

“I watched all my mother’s marriages fail. I know what not to do. Not being completely open and honest is the beginning of the end.”

“It takes a lot of effort to get a ship to sail, doesn’t it.”

“Aye, Aye.”

—xoxox—

After dinner, Hermione and Theo took a walk down to the lake. She crossed her arms across her chest, and his hands were tucked into the pockets of his robes, all while standing so close to each other, they could feel their body heat. Just like dinner, they restrained themselves and respected the boundaries Hermione set. They recalled everything each other missed out on the previous year, including what Theo’s role would have been in the new regime if Voldemort succeeded.

“Theo?”

“Mmm hmm,” he responded.

“How did you get out of it? Not taking the Mark. I thought your father would have pushed you right into it like what happened to Malfoy.”

Theo’s eyebrow quirked noticing she chose to use Draco’s surname when talking about the past. Whether it was intentional or subliminal, part of her associated ‘Malfoy’ with Death Eaters, and not Draco. Before a fleeting burst of courage passed, he pretends to yawn and rested his arm around her shoulders. She snickered at the painfully cliche move but didn’t pull away as he began to explain. “Believe it or not, The Dark Lord valued education. Our marking was going to be some grand ceremony at graduation. Greg, Vince, and myself would have been considered ‘Legacy Death Eaters’ following in the footsteps of our fathers,” his words dripping with sarcasm.

“If that was the case, why did Malfoy take it sixth year?”

Theo paused, knowing the truth would garner his competition sympathy, but knew honesty was what she wanted. “Well, I don't know how all the details of the Malfoys fall from grace, but Draco taking the mark was meant to punish the family. The Dark Lord knew of Lucius’s denouncement after the first fall, and after the fuck up at the Department of Mysteries— good job by the way,” he turned to her and shrugged his eyebrows approvingly. She slipped her arm behind his back, causing his lips to curl into a smile. He continued, “they manipulated Draco, convincing him that it was his duty to take his father’s place and it was the ultimate honor. _He_ tasked Draco with the assassination and letting the Death Eaters in. No one expected Draco to accomplish his mission, not even his mother. To be honest, I think the Dark Lord was hoping Draco would fail. After that, all the _proud fathers_ were eager to offer up their sons as tribute. Those two boneheads, Crabbe and Goyle couldn't wait. Me? I was terrified because I wouldn’t have been on the front lines in battle. _He_ wanted me in the inner circle. He knew I was drawn to the more mysterious side of magic.”

“The creepy snake man wanted your big brain, eh, Nott?” she chided.

“You like my big brain, Granger?

“It's not the size, but how you use it, Theodore.”

“I promise you; I can use my brain to its full potential.”

“Is that so?” she smirked, knowing the innuendos were getting out of control. Tapping the head girl badge on her chest, “Then why don't you have one of these.”

“Who said Draco and Blaise were first and second choice?” His smile was alluringly mischievous. “I passed on it two years in a row. I wanted more time to study and independent research. My NEWT scores are more important to me than a badge and additional responsibilities.”

Slack jawed, she said, “You're a genius.”

“I know. Handsome too.”

“And completely modest,” she said sarcastically.

“Would you prefer I be a bit more self-deprecating?” He turned her to face him and she shot him a skeptical look. “Truth is, I’m actually an idiot. Too stupid to have gone six years only casually talking to the most brilliant girl in school—all while being in every single one of my classes since third year—not letting her get to know me, or me getting to know her. I should have snatched you up when we were both awkward and no one else was paying attention to us.”

“Theo, this is a bit more intimate than _friends,”_ she pointed out the closeness between them. She took a step back, and the tone of her voice became stern. “Also, what do you mean no one else paying attention to _us?_ Are you saying there are other girls interested in you? By all means, don’t let me stand in your way of pursuing them.”

He licked his lips, enjoying the turn this conversation took. “ _Other girls?_ Hermione, if you’re worried about competition, you don't have any.”

“That's not what I—” she stumbled over her words getting flustered. Theo crossed his arms and smirked, wondering how she was going to talk her way out of an almost admission. “What I'm trying to say is, the same thing I said before. I just want to be friends and I'm not ready for a relationship. If what you're looking for is a girlfriend, and there are other girls who want to be that for you, you should—”

“Wait for you. Got it.” He winked.

“No. That’s not. Ugh! Stop looking me like that?”

“Like what?”

“That look! The one that borders between ferocious tiger and adorable kitty cat. I can't read you. You Slytherins are so complicated,” she rubbed her face in her hands. “Nothing is black and white with you, is it?”

“But aren't photographs so much richer in shades of gray?” Theo could tell this little conversation was grinding the gears in her mind. He recognized her ‘thinking face;’ she scrunched her nose, furrowed her brows, and pursed her lips. Being in advanced classes with her, he recognized this look well. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know this is a lot to process. You are coming to terms with the fact that Draco's ruthlessness and my shyness were both moronic tactics by teenage boys who didn't know how to talk to a pretty girl, especially one we ‘weren't allowed’ to be with.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but Theo gently placed his finger against her lips. As if reading her mind, he continued, “I can't speak for Draco, but I'm not afraid anymore. You did that. You, Potter, and even Weasley. I’m not afraid to be with you. I'm not afraid to lose my inheritance. I'm not afraid of what society will say. I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain.”

He did it again. She was speechless. _How does he do that?_ She asked herself as he lowered the finger, dragging it, causing her lips to slightly part. Hermione exhaled slowly, a knot building in her chest.

Theo saw her bottom lip quiver, craving a kiss. He leaned in and with a deep, gravelly whisper, he muttered, “No kissing. We’re just friends, right?”

She cleared her throat, snapping herself out of whatever spell he had her under. “I don't know what you're talking about, Nott. It's getting cold. Let's get back to the castle.” In fact, she wasn't cold at all. Her body flushed with heat and embarrassment. _Oh, he's good. He knows exactly what he's doing._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for following along. This chapter was very Theo heavy, but I promise you, the next chapter is very Draco heavy. I know there has been a bit of a debate on whether this story will end Dramione of Theomione, but honestly, I’m in the dark, too. Speak to me muse...Nope. She’s not giving any spoilers.  
> I want to credit As You Wish by RZZMG for the inspiration for Theo intentionally passing up the Head Boy position. It was really quite brilliant and it fit this story as well. All the kudos!  
> Also, I’m nominated for a few awards presented by the Facebook Group, Granger Enchanted. Please check out their page, the full list of categories and nominees, and vote!  
> [Novel Novice Award (Favorite Author of 2 years or less)](https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1b8kaoL7fO0NW2l8ANqLlqHUnc4so9Jq99oGZwp1IUUQ/viewform?edit_requested=true)
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	6. Lucky Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The competition is heated and Hermione is truly torn. She turns to her best friend for advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it has taken so long for an update. I appreciate all the wonderful reviews, comments, and subscriptions. Um, things are going to get a little steamy, but I’m not telling you who with...Just yet. More notes at the end.
> 
> Alphas/Betas: Mama2HPbabies, my beautiful badger princess that adds sunshine with her love, razor wit, and ability to bring me back down to earth.  
> MotherofBulls, my kindred spirit. Many avocados and eggs were consumed while writing this.

Hermione and Theo exited the lift to find the eighth year common room empty. Just as he was about to ask to walk her to her room, they heard the ding of the other lift and turned their heads to see who it was.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed quickly walking to him. She grabbed him by the arm and whispered, “We need to talk.”

Puzzled he said, “Okay…”

Theo wore a smug smile as Hermione was about to make an excuse. “You don’t need to explain,” he smirked. “Girl talk, right?”

_ “Girl talk!” _ Harry scoffed, though he knew it was true.

She smiled and nodded, despite Harry’s offense. “Thanks for understanding. See you tomorrow?”

“Are we still on for breakfast? My table?” he asked.

Harry’s green eyes grew wide at the exchange. He cast a judging, yet playful look in Hermione’s direction.

She didn’t notice as her eyes were transfixed on Theo’s. “I...um,” she stalled looking to Harry for some guidance. The look on his face said,  _ Don’t ask me. You’re a grown ass woman and can figure this out yourself,  _ followed by a half-smile. Her best friend was no help, and she replied, “Sure. I have to talk to Blaise about things tomorrow.”

Theo closed the gap between himself and Hermione, even though her arm was still looped into Harry’s. “Well, if 'head girl duties' is the excuse you want to make to sit next to me, I’ll take it.”

Harry struggled to release his arm from Hermione’s grip, took a step back, and snickered.

Slipping under his spell once more, she muttered, “Theo…”

“Hermione…”

“ _ Harry. _ ” He waved and announced himself, reminding the two of his presence. “As much as I enjoy being a third wheel...I’m gonna go.”

Suddenly, she snapped back to her senses. Blushing, she said, “Um, yes. Right. I have to go...with Harry. Good night.”

Theo put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Good night, Princess,” he said cheekily. “You too, Potter.”

The bespectacled young man shook his head and led Hermione away. “Oh, Mines. You’re in trouble.”

—xoxox—

The two best friends laid next to each other on her bed staring at the ceiling. While on the run, they spent many nights in a shared bed, up late, talking until they finally succumbed to sleep. What started as a means for warmth, necessary for survival, became their comfort in a world of chaos. While many would question two teenagers of the opposite sex sharing a bed, it was beyond platonic—it was fraternal. Though, they would be lying if they said they never accidentally grazed each other’s … parts. Accidentally, of course.

As Hermione recounted the night’s events and the previous encounters with Draco as well, nothing made sense. She rambled on about how uncharacteristic they were, at the same time, she enjoyed this new side to them. “What is happening to my life?” she asked.

Seeing a woman who had taken down Death Eaters, suffer torture at the hands of a madwoman, and nearly die in battle, utterly distraught and perplexed by two blokes fancying her, Harry couldn’t hold back and roared with laughter. “Look who’s  _ The Chosen One  _ now. Oh, Hermione. We vanquish a Dark Lord, throw some Death Eaters in prison, and all of a sudden the purebloods boys think they have the green light to get in your knickers.”

“Arse.” She swatted him with her pillow. “This is serious, Harry. I keep telling myself I’m not ready for a boyfriend. That would be the wise decision considering post traumatic stress—”

“—but?”

“But the truth is, having someone to heal with doesn’t sound so bad…” She trailed and turned on her side to face Harry. “Having Ginny makes things easier, doesn’t it? Not just the physical stuff, but the talking and not talking, right?”

He squeezed her arm comfortingly. “Hey, the physical stuff is just as important to the healing process, and I don’t just mean snogging and sex. But things like this. Well, more than this. But, quiet moments. Hugging, holding hands—” Harry beamed the way Ginny affected him. “—Being with her makes me feel less crazy. She grounds me.”

Hermione smiled at this. She’d been working on getting the two of them together for years and couldn’t be happier that they were making it, even after the war. “So you think I should take my guard down?”

“That’s your decision. Though I can say, they do seem genuine. Malfoy is not the same person since he admitted things to you. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he seems  _ nice.”  _ Harry almost shudders. “Nott. I like him. I mean, he’s easy enough to get along with. He’s funny. Smart too. Slytherin to the core, but that’s not a bad thing. Means he’s not a quitter.”

“No need to remind me. It’s so confusing. I like them  _ both. _ That sounds so selfish. I like them for different reasons. Theo ticks everything off on the checklist, and he has this way of making me unable to think or speak. He knows how to challenge me, but not in a condescending way. Do you know what I mean?” Harry smirks in response. She sighs and continued. “With Draco, things just make so much sense now. With him, there’s this undeniable connection. Even if our history isn’t all great. It’s just—”

“You two have chemistry. Before, it was animosity, playground bullying, sexual tension, whatever you want to call it.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, evidently growing tired. “Look, Hermione. You’re about to be nineteen. You’re not picking out the man you’re going to marry. Go on dates. Let them spend all their galleons on you. When you feel like you have a stronger connection with one over the other, then let them know who you want to be with or if you want to be with them at all.”

“See, that makes sense in theory. You do realize I’ve been trying to beat it into their heads that I don’t want a boyfriend and the minute I say otherwise, it’s going to be a mess.” Hermione rubbed her temples trying to figure this out.

“Sit up,” he told her with a brotherly sense of annoyance. Harry sat behind her and started kneading her tense shoulders and neck. “You know, you  _ could _ try  _ not _ leading them on and do nothing.”

“ _ Or _ I could shag them both and stay with the one who’s the better lay?” She half-joked.

“Merlin. That’s a thought,” he cringed. A loud yawn signaled it was time for him to head to his dorm. He hugged her from behind and rested his chin on her shoulder next to her ear. “You know, Ron and I think neither of those arseholes is good enough for you, but if one of them can make you happy, we’ll be happy for you.”

With his arms were wrapped around her waist, she crossed her arms over his and gave them a squeeze. “I love you, Harry. Thank you for always being there.”

“Same.” They broke their embrace, and he headed for the door. “Night,” he whispered before closing the door behind him.

—xoxox—

Theo managed to convince Hermione to join him for not only breakfast but lunch as well, though, it was still friendly. No official moves towards a coupling were evident. Yes, there were the odd grazes of fingers and flirtation, but nothing beyond that.

Missing from these meals had been Draco. He sat further down the table with the seventh years at breakfast, and at lunch, he ate quickly and practically ran out of the Great Hall. A little knot of regret formed in her chest and felt a twinge of guilt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt, anyone. They were all recovering from the war and all the reasons why she didn’t want to get involved with anyone, resurfaced. It didn’t matter that she established boundaries for Draco and Theo, they pushed them, and she let them. Maybe it was time for her to put her foot down and stop playing with their hopes and stick to her platonic idealism.  

Then her mind wandered back to Draco. Had he given up pursuing her? Did seeing her with Theo affect him that deeply? He already lost so much and what was she doing to him now? Though she didn’t want to admit it, she enjoyed his attention and their newfound friendship. There was so much more about him she wanted to discover. If she hurt him, she couldn’t live with that. In a few hours time, they would have no choice but to confront each other during potions tutoring session.  

—xoxox—

Draco was quiet while preparing their ingredients for the mystery potion Slughorn had given them. It was quite difficult, and neither of them recognized it. Their professor decided to challenge them, knowing if anyone could master this, it would be these two. Every time Draco tried to speak about his feelings, he just couldn’t do it. They continued to chat in French, but the topic of conversation stayed focused on the task at hand. When they finished adding the ingredients, allowing the potion to brew, Hermione asked, in English, “Draco, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed hard. His throat was dry, and palms were sweaty. “Do you like Theo? Are you official?”

Hermione massaged her temples preparing herself for yet another conversation with a boy who fancied her. Exasperated, she said, “All I wanted was a normal school year. I should have known teenage drama would have been considered  _ normal.” _ The young man before her, looked on edge, eager to hear her answer. “No. I mean yes. I mean... no, we’re not an official couple, but I do like him. It's just—”

Draco was about to open his mouth and profess his feelings and hopefully squash any feelings she had for Theo, but their teacher re-entered the room.

Slughorn stirred the contents of the cauldron, and the widest grin grew on his face. “Congratulations, Miss Granger. You will be joining Mister Malfoy in the international potions apprenticeship. The two of you just brewed a perfect batch of Felix Felicis. Now let me—”

_ “Felix Felicis!”  _ Draco exclaimed. He snatched the ladle out of his professor’s hand and took a big gulp.

“Mister Malfoy! You—”

He felt a shiver run through his body and let the potion’s effects take hold. “Hermione. I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you all day. It’s just— I need to tell you something. Something that wasn’t in the letter.”

Hermione was still in shock from the fact he probably drank two dosages of the elixir but nodded to have him continue.

With an exhalation of breath, he steadied himself. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in love with you since the first day I saw you.” He noticed her wince at the thought, “Yes when we were eleven. You with your manic bushy hair and big teeth and me with my mother’s spit keeping my fringe in place. I followed you on our first train ride, but when I overheard you tell Longbottom you were a muggle-born, I was gutted. How could my first ever crush be someone I couldn’t be with? So I acted like a total prick in school because I needed to convince myself to avoid you and push you away.”

He took a step closer to her and took one of her hands in his. His free hand brushed the side of her face. The frenzied rate the words at which he spoke, slowed. With sincerity and remorse, he continued, “But you grew more clever, intelligent, beautiful, kind, forgiving, all of these things I don’t deserve. Back during Easter... You know I wanted to help you, don’t you? My mother put me under the Imperius. I’m so so so sorry. Then you spoke at my trial. How could you defend me? How is your heart so...so—big? So...pure?”

His head dipped down, eyes drawn to her petite hand in his quidditch-calloused one. The pads of his thumb unconsciously rubbing against her soft skin. Almost regretting even opening his mouth, he continued rambling knowing it would be better just to lay it all out as Blaise said. “I know you don’t forgive me and probably don’t like me much and would rather be with Theo. Hell,  _ I’d  _ rather be with Theo. It’d be so much easier. His father will probably die in Azkaban, and his mother is gone, so he’s free to follow his own path. He never called you names. It wasn’t his house you almost died in. I don’t deserve you, and probably never will. But you need to know—I’m in love with you.”

Their professor stood there gobsmacked.

“Are you done?” she asked while in a state of bewilderment.

“Hermione. I—”

“Draco. I told both you and Theo I don’t want a relationship. But then you’re both, so…so…” Taking her hand out of his, she clapped her hands over her face and groaned out of frustration. She began pacing, trying to clear her head and comprehend this outrageous situation. “You with speaking French, the book and the flowers and Theo with the runes and building the athletic center.”

“He's building a what?” Draco responded, in disbelief, that he was epically trumped.

Hermione continued her rambling. “What on earth do both of you see in me? I’m just me. This is all too much too fast, especially with me still trying to get over the past. The school year just started. You…with that letter. Him...telling me I ‘inspire him to build a better legacy.’ I—I just can’t. My head says, stay focused, that you are both distractions. But my gut keeps telling me something else.”

He takes a step forward, and asked, “What is your gut telling you?”

“Make mistakes. It’s okay to be scared. Sometimes the wrong time is the right time.”

He took another step. “Is that what we—I— would be to you? A mistake.”

“Maybe.”

And another step. “And?”

“Dating isn’t such a terrible idea … and ….” Her features softened as he took the final step towards her. “Why do you smell so good?” she clapped her hand over her mouth, unable to believe what she just said. She was tempted to reach for her book to see if Liquid Luck had Veritaserum-like effects on those who came in contact with the user of Felix Felicis.

Draco’s old swagger seemed to come back in full force under the effects of the potion. “Well, I’m wondering what your lips taste like. So has he kissed you?”

“No, he's respecting my wishes of us just staying friends.”

“Oh,” says in a way that he's not sure if he should be just as respectful, or if Theo is playing a game. If it's a case of the latter, he's ready to play, too.

“But I have thought about it. Kissing him...and you.”

His eyebrow raised in curiosity and his usual smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Go on, boy. Kiss the girl,” Slughorn insisted.

The two had completely forgotten their teacher was still there. They felt a bit violated that they he hadn’t interrupted or excused himself from the situation. Instead, he was a voyeur. 

Draco debated if he should kiss her or not, especially with old Sluggy eyeballing them. He wasn’t sure this opportunity would come again, so just went with it and bent down and placed a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. Electricity coursed through their veins, the years of tension finally giving way to meaning. They looked at each other with wide, longing eyes knowing they wanted more. Their lips were about to meet once more when Draco asked, “What about Theo?”

“Uh...Theo. Right...”

“What?”

“I have a date with him on Saturday morning. We’re going to play tennis with my parents.”

“You’re going to introduce him to your parents?!?”

“I can’t just cancel. It’s my parents. They made reservations. I’ve already explained to them that we’re just school mates and we don’t have a tennis court. They know he’s not my boyfriend.”

“But what if they like him? What if they don’t want to meet me after that? This is terrible! What kind of liquid luck is this, Professor?”

“My dear boy, it can’t change prior arrangements. It gave you luck with your endeavors today, did it not?” He asked.

“Well, yes…”

“So ask her something else.”

Hermione looked puzzled at their professor’s suggestion, but it clicked instantly with him. “Hermione, may I accompany you and Theodore this Saturday?”

“Yes, of course,” the words spilling out of her mouth before she had the opportunity to object. But she scrunched her face as her she knew it was a terrible idea.

“Excellent. Hermione, now that our study session is over, can I hold your hand and walk you to dinner. Also, will you do me the honor of sitting with me at the Slytherin Table for dinner as my date? And possibly more kissing?” He was  _ really _ pushing his luck with the last one, but Felix was doing all the talking.

“I agree to all of the above,” she bit her lip eagerly, hoping he would kiss her now. Though she wasn't sure if the response she gave him was due to their undeniable chemistry, the Felix, or that's what she genuinely wanted.

“Thank you, Professor,” Draco winked as he took her hand and escorted her out of the classroom.

—xoxox—

Walking into the Great Hall, hand-in-hand, may have made Draco and Hermione an official couple in the eyes of the rest of the school, but Theo still wasn’t convinced. Draco seemed just a bit too giddy, and Hermione was a bit too complicit. His Slytherin instincts told him something was off. He just couldn’t see how the girl he had spent almost the past twenty-four hours with could easily go from only wanting to be friends to holding hands and kissing Draco in the hallway. Whatever it was, he wasn’t buying it. His teeth were on edge as he witnessed the exchange, making mental notes of everything, assessing the situation for foul play.

Blaise could see it all over Theo’s face. He gripped his friend’s shoulder and asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I think Draco did more than just tutor Hermione in potions,” his brows furrowed as he explored his mental catalog of potions and their effects.

“You don't think he slipped her a love potion, do you?” Blaise was taken aback at Theo’s assumption.

Nott shook his head, “I would love for that to be the easy answer, but he’s smarter than to give her anything. I think he did something to himself; make himself more appealing. Confidence booster, relaxant, something like that.”

“Oh, I could see that,” Blaise said plainly. “And if that’s the case?”

“This fight isn’t over yet.”

Hermione looked over at Theo and caught his eye. She looked guilty, and he took it as a good sign. “Theo?” She called to him.

“Yes?” he drawled, with the same confidence he exuded last night; showing her that this would not rattle or deter him.

Draco countered with his own smug smile.

She cast sideways glances at both boys and rolled her eyes. “Draco will be joining us for tennis on Saturday.”

“Is he now?” Instead of seeing this as a threat, he smiled and took it as a welcome challenge. “I look forward to it.”

The rest of dinner went by rather smoothly. Draco did his best not to appear too eager or clingy. It may have appeared that he had snagged the girl, but still wasn’t entirely confident. The last thing he wanted was to seem too possessive and push her away.

After dinner, Hermione presented her hand first, and he was more than pleasantly surprised—he was downright relieved. He made a sideways glance at Potter and Ginny Weasley, and it appeared as though she was collecting a considerable sack of coins from her boyfriend. Draco couldn’t help but chuckle.  _ Potter bet on the wrong horse. _

When they reached the eighth year compound, Theo was already sitting on one of the armchairs, in a cross, contemplative state. Hermione turned to Draco, “I need to talk to him.”

Suddenly defensive, he asked, “Why?” 

“Draco...”

“Fine,” he pouted. Hermione wasn’t his yet. Not officially. One slick conversation with Theo, things could all fall apart. Draco stood patiently against a wall as he saw her take a seat next to his competition.

“Hey.” She smiled hoping to salvage some of their newly formed friendship.

Theo rubbed the stubble on his chin and feigned a smile. “Hey.”

“So…”

“Yes, please go on. Tell me how just last night, we went to dinner, then went for a walk where you told me repeatedly that you don’t want a boyfriend. Oh, and at breakfast  _ and _ lunch we continue our game of cat and mouse, then you go to potions tutoring, and all of a sudden you and Malfoy are traipsing through the castle like the new golden couple. Explain.” He was hurt. 

Hermione’s voice was shaky. She truly disliked this situation and didn’t want to hurt anyone. “It just happened. Draco told me— _ everything.  _ Things started to make sense—”

“Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?” he asked plainly.

“Those words weren’t uttered, exactly.”

“Then you’re not,” a small glimmer of hope shone through. He turned to face her and noticed a loose curl covering her eye. He managed to smile, even if he wasn’t up to it, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hermione, whatever happened today was impulse. Nothing substantial. When all is said and done, it’s not going to work out, and I’ll be here. Ready to give you what you deserve.” He rose from seat leaving with the last word. 

His words rang in her ears and wondered if he was right.  _ Was this too impulsive? _

Theo confronted Draco before heading up to his room, “I know you did something to her, and I’m going to find out.”

“Just my lucky day,  _ Theodore, _ ” he drawled his given name in a way that it almost felt like an insult. 

From across the room, Blaise noticed what is going on and wondered if he might need to intervene. 

Theo caught his friend’s glance and shook his head, telling him no need. He took one last look at Hermione and left.

Draco made his way to Hermione and held out his hand, “Want to talk about it?”

Her better judgment told her just call this day  _ done. _ No more hurting people she cared about. No more leading guys on, but something, she wasn’t sure what, told her to give into Draco. “Sure. I have a decent bottle of red wine in my room. Want to chat there?”

He gulped, realizing she invited him to her dorm. Luck was still on his side. 

—xoxox—

Draco offered to open the bottle of wine as she seemed stressed and unnerved by whatever Theo said to her. If she was this upset, she had feelings for him, and that meant the battle wasn’t over. He handed her a glass and said, “Cheers.” 

The two clinked their glasses and Hermione proceeded to gulp rather than elegantly sip. Draco raised his eyebrow but refilled her glass nonetheless. 

Before sipping her replenished wine glass, she asked, “How are you feeling? Does the potion feel like it’s wearing off?”

“I don’t know. I still feel lucky,” taking a seat next to her. “Though I feel guilty. I shouldn’t have cornered you with all of that today. Especially when you told us to back off.” 

She sighed and swirled the wine playfully in her glass. Watching the legs drip down the sides of the glass had a calming effect on her. “I was blindsided for sure. But last night, Harry convinced me I should be more direct with my feelings and either date you two or stop leading you on.”

“Did he now?”

“Well yes, but I wasn’t expecting you to go all ‘now or never.’” She smiled. “Seeing reckless bravery from a Slytherin was a bit of a turn on.” The wine was already affecting her, she made the first move and kissed him gently. 

Suddenly shy he asked, “You believe me right? Everything I said?”

“Yes. You know, you’re cute when you’re nervous,” she smiled peering over her wine glass. 

With a wink, he said, “I hoped you would think that I’m cute all the time.” He hurriedly finished his last glass and placed it on the floor,  just wanting his hands free. “I hope you know I meant every word.”

She opted not to finish the second glass, picked up Draco’s and put both on her desk. “I know you did.” In the corner of her eye, she could see him nervously fidgeting waiting for her to return. The wine had a lovely calming effect, without the complete drunken feeling she gets from firewhisky. Taking her seat next to him, she entwined her fingers with his and placed his hands in her lap. Her touch instantly calmed him. “I’m not going to lie. I thought you had given up and was it made me sad that you wanted a romantic relationship or no relationship at all. I liked the way our friendship was developing.” 

Draco now felt like an arse for avoiding her all day. She wanted a relationship with him no matter what. Even if it was platonic. “I’m sorry. I was just—” 

“Jealous?”

Ashamed of his behavior, he gave a humorless laugh, “Yes.” 

“I hate this about myself, but I find that cute, too.” Her hands now free to roam, reached for his knee. “You know, my friend Harry…”

“Yes, the bane of my existence all up until he saved my life. Continue,” he said before reaching over to kiss her neck. 

“He’s quite brilliant.” Draco cast a skeptical look. She smacked him on the shoulder. “I mean it. But last night, he also said you and I have chemistry, and it’s probably why we’ve been able to move beyond the past.”

“And?”

“And he made a very good point about healing emotional wounds. The  _ physical _ side is just as important as talking. So, if you’re up for it, I would like to heal the wounds of our past.” She bit her bottom lip in the most inviting way. 

Draco refused to play the part of the fool and crashed his lips upon hers. If she was willing, he was able. She parted her lips inviting him to do the same. Her tongue slipped into his mouth encouraging him to play along. They tasted the sweet wine that lingered in their mouths. She kissed him feverishly and eventually took control, coaxing him onto his back while she straddled him. Her hands roamed his body as her lips upon his proved her eagerness.  He felt slightly out of his depth. Maybe he had his misconceptions that she was purely a bookworm; he expected their conversation to be longer and maybe a few stolen kisses, but Granger was an animal. Not that he minded. He was thoroughly enjoying himself. Guilt bubbled in his gut and wondered if it was just Felix helping him get lucky.

Hermione bit Draco's bottom lip and dragged her teeth seductively while a free hand loosened his tie. Next, she unbuttoned his shirt. Taking the hint, he made quick work of relieving her of her uniform top. Hermione's nimble fingers traced his defined chest and abdominal muscles. “God bless Quidditch.” She muttered.

Draco didn't notice her lust-filled eyes as his were practically glued to her ivory lace covered, Mother-of-Merlin-they-are-juicier-than-I-thought, breasts. Awkwardly, he cupped one in each hand. “Boobs.”  _ Fuck! Did I say that out loud? _

Hermione stifled a laugh. “Been a while?”

“Um, yeah.” He said a bit embarrassed.

“Me too. Over a year.” She had absolutely no reason to explain herself; words just tumbled out of her mouth. “It was the summer before the war really took hold. I thought that maybe if I could go back to a non-magical life, I could be safe and happy. I reconnected with a childhood friend, but I didn’t love him. It was just sex.”

“Sex?” He gulped. “Was he your first?”

She blushed and took his hand. “Do you really want the answer to that?”

“Please. I'll tell you my history in exchange.”

“Viktor was my first.” His eyes widened in surprise. “Davy was my third.”

“Please don't tell me you slept with Potter or Weasley. For god’s sake, please don't let it be Longbottom.” He panicked.

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with them, but no. It was someone older. Please, Draco. Can we drop this? I'm almost nineteen, and I've slept with three people. And none of them were long term relationships. It's hardly shocking by teenage standards.” She let down her hair and tousled her curls, letting them breathe.  

“I'm sorry if I upset you. It's just... I'm a pureblood.”

“I'm aware.” She rolled her eyes wondering why he would bring this up now.

“No. I'm a  _ pure  _ blood. _ Sanctimonia Vincet Semper:  _ Purity will always conquer _. Toujours Pur:  _ Always Pure.” He tousled his hair nervously. “Purity isn't just about not marrying muggle-borns. It's about avoiding temptations that could result in us turning our backs on tradition. I mean, I’ve done just about everything else. Just not—”

She gasped in disbelief. “Draco, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?”

He nodded, suddenly chilly realizing they had been chatting, topless for a while now. “Do you want to put your shirt back on?”

Hermione took his hands in hers. “Look, I wasn’t acting like this because of the Liquid Luck. I wanted to. But I’m not going to let your first time be this crazy rush of hormones. I don't want you to feel pressured. If you still hold onto your traditions and don’t want —”

“Fuck tradition!” He blurted out realizing that he could lose all chance of having sex with Hermione Granger. “Tradition has gotten me nowhere. Honestly. I’ve already turned my back on it. I want to be with you.”

Those gray eyes widened in the sweetest, puppy dog-like fashion. They were begging for affection. Hermione placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips. “I’m sorry, but this changes a lot of things. Not bad. It’s just … I want your first time to be as special as mine was. And this,” she presented the scene around them, “Isn’t it.”

“It would be memorable because it’s you. And I’ve been fantasizing about you and me…” He cut himself off before he revealed too much.

A mischievous smile crept across her face already understanding his meaning. She couldn’t help but notice how adorable, vulnerable, and eager he was. She struggled whether they should move forward, but thought it was best not to. “To be honest, this almost went too far, and I wouldn’t want any regrets.”

“Because of Theo?” His confidence waned.

“Because we barely know each other and I was acting completely on impulse. It wasn’t fair for me to assume you were the kind of guy who...nevermind. I like you, and you like me, and we should slow things down.” She stood and walked toward the hook where her dressing gown hung.

He tried to read between the lines and understand her meaning. He just said the first thing that came to his mind. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Hermione was in the middle of covering herself up when he asked.  _ Merlin, could you be more adorable?  _ She thought to herself. It took her a moment to process everything. “I’m so sorry I was so forward with you earlier. The wine was doing all the talking. I...can I take the night to think about it?” She asked, some sense coming back to her. 

“So, I guess my luck ran out for the day? Damn. Should have asked you earlier,” he laughed uncomfortably, slipping his shirt back on.

She gave him a little wink. “Maybe you should have.”

_ I’m an idiot. A sad, virgin idiot. Things to add to the growing list of attributes I love about Hermione Granger: sex goddess and she pities the pathetic. _

Then a rush of bravado came forth. As she was about to tie the dressing gown, he made an emboldened move. He quickly walked over to her and slipped his hand inside and around her waist. He pulled her close. His lips, ghosting hers, he growled, “Well, I’m going to ask you again in the morning, before I accompany you at breakfast at  _ your _ table. And while you’re pondering my request I’ll remind you that I’m not completely inexperienced.” His free hand made its way up her thigh and past her knickers. A slight yelp, followed by breathy moans escaped her lips. Their foreheads touched while eyes locked — his in focused determination, hers in searing want.

Draco was doing something Hermione didn’t expect. He’d been forward with his courtship advancements. Maybe on some subconscious level, she wanted to see that translated sexually. This, someone else taking control—she wanted and needed. 

_ I’m actually doing this. I’m fingering Hermione Granger. This is NOT a drill. DO NOT blow your load in your pants. YOU ARE EIGHTEEN for Merlin’s sake. If you do that, she will never take your v-card. _

As he continued his exploration, her writhing and guidance spurred him on. Even in this, her experience showed—the way she tilted her hips and instruction of where he should place his hands, and his pacing. She was a woman who knew what she wanted and how she wanted it. With any other girl, Draco would be intimidated. But this was Hermione. It should be expected that she would be knowledgeable in all subjects including sex. He hoisted her leg around his hip with his hand and clothing as a barrier between them. Their bodies ground against each other until he could feel her unraveling. Panting heavily, she collapsed on his chest. With a satisfied smile, he knew he had proven himself.

Her ability to stand unsupported was evident by the way she clung to his neck, so he walked them backward and sat her on the edge of the bed. He then fell to his knees, kissed her abdomen glistening with sweet sweat, and placed his head in her lap. He wanted to worship her. He wanted her praise. He wanted  _ her _ .

Fingers gently ran through now floppy platinum tresses. She combed his hair back into place and gingerly raked her nails against his scalp. Coming down from the euphoria, she had to ask, “Are you bothered by the fact I have more experience?”

“No. Well, not anymore.” He sat up on his knees and pulled her close, her legs straddling him once more. “I like that you know what you want and I hope you’ll like some of the things I like, too.”

She kissed him once more, savoring the moment. “I think I’d like that...boyfriend.” At that point, Hermione felt like there was no reason to deny it. Tonight she didn’t think. She felt. And it felt right. Yes, there was a long list of things they had in common and things they liked about each other, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. Logic gave way to something stronger. 

“Really?”

“You made a compelling argument,” she smirked.

“So no more tennis with Theo?”

“I didn’t say that.” She saw the dejected look on his face. “Look. It is the last thing I have planned with him. I already owled my parents, and they’re excited. And you should know, It’s poor form to cancel plans with parents.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’ll just send them another letter in the morning that you’ll be joining us too. It won’t even be a date. It will just be friends playing a game,” Hermione reassured him.

“Oh, it’ll be a game alright,” he muttered.

Hermione just laughed it off. “You boys play nice. Alright,  _ boyfriend, _ It’s time for you to go. I need to head to the showers.”

“Is that a command to leave or an invitation to join you in the bath?” He asked cheekily.

“Draco...” she laughed.

“Okay. I just keep pushing my luck. It’s worked for me, today. What can I say?” He kissed her once more and slid his hands up her front, allowing himself one more memory before bedtime. Breathless, he said, “Good night, Beautiful.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

They took a total of ten steps to her door and said their farewells.

After the door had closed on his face, he wanted to shout for joy. The day had completely turned around until something at his feet caught his attention. It was an ear at his feet attached to a very long string. His eyes followed the trail to find his adversary a t the other end.

“Liquid Luck, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? It isn’t often we get sexually experienced Hermione and virgin Draco. Add in very Slytherin Theo, we’ve got some fun coming our way. I hope you all thought it was worth the wait.
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	7. Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of our boys must concede but is he truly out of the game?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my apologies and notes at the end
> 
> **Songs that inspired the chapter:**  
> [Boom Clap – Charli XCX](https://open.spotify.com/track/63bniwRWWFGoasyhX2eQHJ)  
> [Just Friends – Amy Winehouse](https://open.spotify.com/track/2i1S5Dq9SaFGcnw8mnb4ks)

“How long have you been out here?” Draco’s happy-go-lucky demeanor changed instantly; his signature sneer returning after a long hiatus.

“Oh, I heard everything,” Theo said with disgust. “This is low, even for you.”

“You fucking pervert,” he spat. Draco’s knuckles went white as his fists balled tightly. “Just give up, Theo. Since you heard _everything_ you should also know, she’s mine. _Officially.”_

Theo rolled up the extendable ear and shoved it in his pocket. He grit his teeth. “Don’t flatter yourself. It doesn’t count if you used magic to help you.”

“Like you wouldn’t have done the same thing?” He’s in disbelief as Theo shakes his head in denial. “Oh, yeah right. And it’s just Liquid Luck. It’s not like Amortentia or anything. I didn’t trick her. I just tipped the scales in my favor.”

Draco’s smugness caused Theo to seethe. The dark-haired wizard spoke clearly, as to not let his oldest friend miss a word. “Exactly. You used magic. This isn’t a game, Draco. I _could have_ been sneaky and used any means necessary, but I didn’t,” He paused knowing it was half true. If it weren’t for Blaise, he would have been more underhanded, but he knew it wasn’t the way. “I wanted to get to know her. I wanted her to know me. I wanted her to fall for me when _she_ was ready.” Theo turned around and smacked the wall in frustration. “You—you fucked up everything.”

Suddenly defensive of his circumstance, he said, teeth gritted, “I didn’t fuck up anything, Theo. She _chose_ me.”

“And you would have never gone after her if I didn’t say something first,” he whipped around, and they were nose to nose. “This is just like you, Draco. Ever since we were younger. Always jealous. Always had to have your way. Taking things away from me that were mine. You got so used to me being a pushover; you did it again.”

“You’re full of shit!” Draco aggressively pointed at Theo’s chest. “You didn’t fancy her. Not the way I did... _do_ . It was a joke for you. A way to piss me off. Like _you_ always do.”

“Yeah. I joke. Because nothing in my fucking life goes right that I have to laugh it off or I’ll go mental,” he scoffed.

“Well, you were the one saying that I had until Christmas to make her mine. Then you jumped in out of nowhere,” Draco pointed out, and Theo didn’t like it. “You _knew_ how I felt even before I did. If anyone was trying to take something from someone, it’s you.”

“Just like _you_ , I didn’t think I had a chance. But she was there. Wanting to talk to me. Laughing at my jokes, wanting to know if I was okay essentially being an orphan. I had to seize the opportunity.” He pushed Draco away and pulled his dark tresses in frustration.

“That’s what I did. Took advantage of an opportunity.” The two men hadn’t realized how loud and heated their argument was becoming.

“No. What you did was different. You manipulated her.” He sighed. “She was in my grasp. I was just waiting.” He turned his head toward Draco’s direction and sighed, “Why Draco? Why would you push her? She’s not ready.”

“Believe me; she’s ready.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, recounting the event that happened just moments ago.

Theo let out a humorless laugh. “Stop thinking with your cock, you wank stain.” Draco looked insulted, but Theo didn’t care. He kept talking. “Hermione wouldn’t have said those things if she didn’t mean it. She—she isn’t some toy, petulant children fight over. She’s not some prize to be won. That woman—” he paused, “—is one you fight for. One that makes you get out of bed every morning and want to be a better person.”

“You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I live in an eternal state of self-loathing constantly thinking about my unworthiness?” Offended, he fought back. “You think you’re the only person who has been royally fucked? At least you don’t have one of these!” Brusquely, he yanked his sleeve up, revealing his Mark. “You got off easy in this war. No more terrible daddy to ruin your life, _Lord Nott._ Just a big estate and more Galleons than you know what to do with. Yes, I’ll admit it. I was a horrid child and a bully, but the past two years, I paid for it. And when your turn was up, where were you going to end up? As an assassin? A political puppet? No. You were chosen to work as the Dark Lord’s personal brainchild. No blood on your hands, well not directly.” Draco did the best he could to steady himself, and not let the past rattle him anymore.

Theo didn’t want to think anymore about what he would have been required to do as a Death Eater. Instead, his mind went back to Hermione and how much he wasn’t ready to give up and how she deserved better. She deserved a _real_ choice. "Just know this. For the rest of your relationship, you'll have to live with the fact it's built on deception, and you will never stop questioning if what happened today was real or not." He stood silently as Draco took in his words.

This would have quite possibly been the best day of Draco’s life if what Theo said didn't have some truth behind it. His lips puckered unable to form an insult or comeback.

Knowing that his point had been made, Theo took off, leaving Draco alone in the hallway with his thoughts. It was something he did well—start an argument, finish it, and leave his opponent speechless. Draco huffed and punched the wall, leaving his knuckles swollen and scratched. He massaged the raw skin and decided it was time to go to bed and reflect on all of this in private.

Once the hallway was clear, a door clicked open. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and started heading toward the bathrooms, having heard the whole conversation.

—xoxox—

Hermione woke the next morning conflicted. On the one hand, she was excited to see Draco again, those moments in her dorm swirling in her mind. Gone were the constraints of her consciousness when they were alone. It seemed as though she didn’t think at all when it came to Draco; there was something in the air. They didn’t need to think, just _act._ On the other hand, reality settled in, and she reminded herself that she would be spending all day with Theo as they were partners in back-to-back classes together. The friendship they had built over the past week and a half was refreshing. She hoped she could salvage that friendship while being in a relationship with Draco.  

After she was ready, she contemplated staying in her room until someone grabbed her or heading out to face the music. A knock at the door told her that decision had been made for her.

Hermione sighed with relief at the sight of Harry and Ron.

“Mione, I think it’s time to talk,” Ron uncharacteristically chastised her.

—xoxox—

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_

“It’s open,” Blaise called as he tied his shoes.

“Pansy said you wanted to chat?” Draco said as he walked through the door.

Smoothing out his robes, he gestured to the edge of his bed. The door opened once again; this time it was Greg.

From a little distance away, they heard a voice approaching, “Greg, Blaise better have the good shit or—” Theo’s eyes caught Draco as he entered Blaise’s room. “Oh, fuck this shit.”

Greg grabbed him by the back of his robes before he could dash out of the room. Using his old bullying tactics, he practically threw Theo on the bed next to Draco.

“Thanks, Greg.” Blaise nodded at his enforcer and cast a disapproving glance at his two friends. “You two have some serious explaining to do.”

—xoxox—

“Hermione, what happened last night?” Harry asked calmly.

Ron rolled his eyes, “The entire eighth-year compound heard Nott and Malfoy in a row.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose wondering how to explain this. “Draco is my boyfriend now, but—”

—xoxox—

“Liquid Luck! Draco! What the fuck were you thinking?” Blaise shouted in astonishment. “Shit. Almost forgot. Greg, take their wands.”                                              

Draco and Theo growled not wanting to give up their weapons but also knew they would probably do something stupid at this point.  

Blaise began pacing, “So after your tutoring session, you were under of the most powerful influencing potions, so much so, it’s illegal in competition…”

Theo cast the most savage side-eye in Draco’s direction. “And Blaise, you thought _I_ was going to be the one to play dirty.”

The Head Boy massaged his temples. “Fuck, Draco. I thought you were smart.”

—xoxox—

“Brightest Witch, my arse! ‘Mione you should have slapped the ladle out of his hand!” Ron exclaimed. “We all know how effective Liquid Luck is. How did you let it go so far?”

Guiltily she replied, “I wanted it to.”

“So you decided. You like Malfoy more than Nott?” Harry asked seeking her confirmation.

She bit her lip and hesitated.

Ron raised his eyebrow. “Hermione…”

—xoxox—

“If this were a game of Quidditch, I’d call foul,” Blaise said.

“Ha!” Theo said triumphantly.

“But…” Greg interjects, “Granger could have stopped Draco or asked Slughorn for an antidote.”

“Point,” Draco added smugly.

“But, I’d already given both of you the warning to play fair and to put it all your cards on the table.” Blaise paces back and forth with all of as his friends awaiting his deliberation. “Draco, Granger agreed to be your girlfriend? Officially?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms matter-of-factly. “And we had a nice _intimate_ conversation.”

You could practically see the flames coming out of Theo’s nose.

Blaise’s eyes grew wide at this admission. He honestly wasn’t expecting for Draco to get _that_ lucky under the influence of the potion. He sighs and says, “Let’s go. We’re having breakfast with Potter, Weasley, and Granger.”

—xoxox—

“What?” Hermione’s mouth dropped, dumbfounded.

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry explained. “Zabini, Goyle, Ron, and I met late last night after that fight and planned this intervention. This is just getting ridiculous.”

She slapped her hands over her face. “I know. But they’re both so… And I’m...ugh.”

“What do you want from them, ‘Mione?” Ron asked. “Seriously. Friendship? A relationship? Just a good shag? Why did you pick Malfoy over Nott?”

Hermione didn’t like the tone of voice he took with her. Okay, maybe she deserved it a little. “I like talking to both of them. They each have different qualities that I enjoy. I didn’t want a relationship. I just wanted friendship—”

“But then they started going out of their way trying to win you over.” Harry finished her sentence. “And Malfoy made the first big move, so he got under your skin first. Am I on the right track?”

“It’s more than that,” she attempts to explain. “There is something between us that I can’t put into words—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ron holds his hand up not wanting her to go into the details of her attraction to their former nemesis.

“Then it’s settled,” Harry said with finality. “Repeat after me.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow questioningly. “Okay...”

“I, Hermione Granger.”

“I, Hermione Granger.”

“Have picked,” Harry cringed before the words pass his lips, “Draco Malfoy to be my boyfriend.”

“Have picked Draco Malfoy to be my boyfriend,” she said with a smile.

Ron chuckled as he shook his head, “and I will _firmly_ place Theodore Nott in the friend zone, no longer leading him on and giving him false hope.”

She hesitated once again. Harry narrowed his eyes waiting for her to repeat Ron’s words. Hermione gulped and recited in a forced, slightly enunciated mumble, “and I will firmly place Theodore Nott in the friend zone, no longer leading him on and giving him false hope.”

“Good. Let’s go to breakfast and tell your suitors who you have chosen.”

“Honestly, Ronald! _Suitors?_ ”

“Two pureblood ponces _wooing_ you with fancy gifts and grand gestures. Yes, suitors,” he teases with a grin. He hooks his arm around her shoulders and shakes his head. “You know, if you want any insight on how to handle those two, you can always talk to Daph. She’s known both of them for years.”

The corner of Hermione’s mouth curls into a crooked smile. “How’s that going?”

“It’s new. She’s really traditional, but without any prejudice. No offense, but it’s kind of nice coming from the same background and having the same values. That came out wrong. You know what I’m trying to say, right?”

She sighs, “Yes. Relationships are hard enough without a massive cultural difference. My Grandmother was French Catholic and Grandfather English Anglican. While I love knowing that I have a background with a diverse history, I know that it was hard for them being so different.” _Great Hermione, add one more thing to think about._

—xoxox—

When the trio arrived at the Slytherin table, Daphne had saved a spot for Ron, with her sister on her other side. Blaise took his place at the head of the table, which usually wasn’t allowed, but as Head Boy, he could bend the rules a bit. Harry sat across from Draco, Hermione across Gregory, and Ron across from Theo.

“This seating arrangement is ridiculous, Blaise. Let me sit next to my girlfriend,” Draco protested.

“Wait.” He held out a finger. “Potter, Weasley, how did your intervention go?”

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, “Long and short of it. Hermione is Malfoy’s girlfriend. She doesn’t regret yesterday, and her feelings for him are genuine. She still wants to be friends with Nott and won’t go back on her word. So tennis is still on, and she will teach him as promised.”

Hermione felt embarrassed that Harry had to be her proxy in this delicate situation, but was almost relieved.

“So I can switch seats with Potter now?” Draco asked eagerly.

Zabini nodded his head and ushered his hand in the direction of the seat.

Malfoy and Potter nodded and switched. Draco practically ran to Hermione’s side as if the last note was just played in a game of musical chairs. Eagerly he reached for her hand and kissed it. He whispered in her ear, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

She responded with a little smile because, in all honesty, she couldn’t say the same. It’s not like she didn’t think about him... his lips, his hands, the sweet confession about his innocence. But the argument. Over her. It just wasn’t right and didn’t make sense. The nagging guilt kept her up most of the night.

“Well then. I guess I must concede. I’ll see you in class,” Theo smiled in a way that masked his true feelings on the matter.

“But breakfast,” Hermione turned her attention to him, concern in her voice.

“I had coffee and toast. I’ll be fine. Hermione, becoming your friend has been one of the brightest spots in my life in recent years. I’m not going to mope around like a spoilt child just because I didn’t get what I want or throw away this new friendship.” His eyes glancing in her general direction.

“I like our friendship too, Theo.” A pang of guilt hit her gut recalling how Draco behaved yesterday when he thought that Theo would be the victor.

“Don’t be too late to class. We need to review the Runes assignment before we take the exam.” Hermione nodded in response, and Theo gave a wink to everyone at the table and left.

Draco possessively put an arm around Hermione’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. He was hoping for more but didn’t push it after the intense morning. She smiled warmly and gave him a little peck in return. After that, she was quiet throughout breakfast and would casually glance at the empty seat where Theo sat.

“You okay?” he asked while gently rubbing her back.

“Yeah,” she smiled and squeezed his knee. “Just a crazy morning. What time is it?”

“Quarter ‘til.”

“I need to go.”

She stood about to leave, but he grabbed her by the wrist and kissed her in front of most of the school, causing quite the stir. “See you at lunch?”

“Yes. And maybe a little _after_ lunch,” she grinned suggestively before walking away.

—xoxox—

Hermione and Theo casually reviewed the assignments and quizzed each other as if nothing happened, well, except the playful banter was kept to a minimum. If he was upset, he was doing an excellent job hiding it.

“By the way, what is your mother’s favorite flower?”

“What?” Hermione asked, blindsided by the change in conversation.

“Well I’m meeting them tomorrow, and my parents taught me to always thank my hosts.”

Nervously she responded, “Oh. Of course. How could I forget? Roses.”

He smiled in response. “How English. Are roses every mum’s favorite?”

“Probably,” she snorted.

“Any particular color?” he implores with a smile.

“Oh,” she pondered, “white or yellow.”

“I’ll go with yellow as it’s the color of friendship.”

“Do all purebloods know the language of flowers?” She asked in astonishment.

Theo just shrugged and turned his attention back to his studying, “What did you get for number twelve?”

—xoxox—

At lunch, Hermione absentmindedly searched the Great Hall for Draco and her friends. She found him instantly, with his unmistakable looks and all. He was speaking to some underclassmen who Hermione reckoned were his teammates by their height and build. Harry and Ginny joined Neville and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table. Ron and Daphne were at the Gryffindor table with Dean and Seamus. At the Ravenclaw table, she saw Luna with Rolf engaged in conversation. Everyone was accounted for except for Theo. Blaise pulled her aside as if already reading her mind. “He ate and ran.”

“I. Um. How did he—”

“Don’t worry. He wasn’t mopey,” Blaise assured her and pulled the bench out so they could both take a seat.

The tightness in her chest relaxed; her concerns over how Theo was handling things beginning to wane. She genuinely felt horrible and wanted to make sure he was going to be okay. “Thanks, Blaise.”

“Anytime, Granger,” he said suavely. “I might have a career as a Quidditch referee or even Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot after all this.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” she pouted sarcastically and stuck out her tongue.

Draco plopped down on her other side, excited for their reunion after the short time apart. Hermione turned to give him a big hug and soft kiss. She was Head Girl, and he was a prefect after all. They had to maintain some semblance of decorum. With a smile, she asked, “How was your free period?”

Nonchalantly he answered, “I went for a fly around the pitch, ran some laps, calisthenics, then some weight training. Just trying to get back into Quidditch shape.”

“Sounds like a great way to work off some stress. Maybe you could show me your progress. I’m an excellent judge of ‘Quidditch shape,’” she said coyly.  

“Well, maybe I should,” he responded with a smirk. Draco was downright giddy she was openly flirtatious with him. The competition was over. She was his, and he was hers. “Tonight? Maybe you could let me know how well Quidditch skills translate into tennis skills?”

“Hmm… that’s a thought,” she pretended to ponder and slipped her hand on his knee. “Sounds like a plan.”

Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprise. Almost too eagerly, he placed his hand on her thigh, sliding it up under her skirt.

“Hey,” Blaise chucked a bread roll at his friends. “Some of us are trying to eat here.”

Hermione and Draco blushed bright red. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Guess who rearranged the prefect rounds schedule? As it stands, we have the night off.”

“That is a blatant misuse of power,” he grinned devilishly. “I like it.”

As they leaned in for another kiss, more baked goods flew in their direction. “Oi. The firsties are getting grossed out by you and so am I,” Blaise clucked like a mother hen. “Honestly, when did I become the responsible one?”

—xoxox—

Saturday morning came around, and Theo came down in his new tennis whites carrying the yellow roses. Hermione grinned, seeing him in muggle sports attire, donning white shorts and a polo with the racquet slung over his shoulder. It always amused her to no end seeing purebloods wear muggle clothing.

“What?” Theo asked a little self-consciously. “Do I look ridiculous? The girl at the shop said it looked alright. Damn, maybe she was just trying to get a higher sale.”

Hermione smiled, “No no. You look great. Honestly, I was just noticing that you have a natural tennis build.”

“Checking me out, Granger?”

“Shush! No! I’m an athlete, we notice these things,” she explained, though, he seemed disappointed.

“Why are you wearing a jumper and jeans?” he implored.

“I left all my kit at home. I had no idea that I would ever have any need for it here. So I’ll have to change when I get there,” she rambled. “Let me see your racquet while we wait for Draco.”

Theo unzipped it from the case and handed it to her. Hermione began twirling it, letting her wrists warm up. While dueling implemented similar moves to tennis, there was something about the weight and resistance that felt comforting.

“This is way beyond a beginners racquet,” She examined its sides and the threading and whistled, clearly impressed. “My my, Theodore, you spent quite a bit on this. You trying to win Wimbledon?”

He paused as he wanted to say something witty and flirtatious, instead said simply, “I honestly had no idea what I was getting myself into and just bought the best stuff.”

“Must be nice,” she playfully took a jab at his status and ability to afford luxuries so easily. “Well, it’s a beautiful racquet. I’m just a little jealous I don’t have anything this nice.”

“Well your birthday is coming up—” Theo started, as he took the racquet back. His mouth parted, ready to suggest he would be the one to bestow a gift but he tensed up and stopped himself. “—I could drop hints to your parents and Draco.”

Hermione just laughed and shook her head. “You don't have to do that. I’m just glad I’ll have someone to play with when the athletic center is finished.”

Suddenly, Theo’s mouth grew dry and chest tight. The prospect of being her tennis partner and her truly appreciating his gift to the school, lit a fire in his gut. He knew she firmly set the boundaries but moving on will be harder than he thought, especially with them spending so much time together. Trying not to let his smile look too eager or desperate, he replied, “I just hope I’m not total rubbish.”

Interrupting their conversation, Draco finally arrived, dressed casually in slacks and an untucked button down. He examined how prepared Theo was and knew he had some ground to make up. Coyly, he snuck a kiss on Hermione’s cheek and wrapped his arm around her waist.

Theo was quick to avert his eyes, having no desire to watch Draco flaunt his privileges as Hermione’s boyfriend.

“Hello, Beautiful. So, I thought Quidditch gear would be a bit out of place, so I went with smart casual. Is there someplace I can purchase tennis kit before we meet your parents?”

“There’s a pro shop at the club,” Hermione squeezed his arm and reassured him.

“Now, you’re not giving my girlfriend flowers, are you, Theo?” Draco’s eyes darted at the fragrant blossoms in his hand.

“Host gift. Where’s yours?”

Draco went pale, eyes wide with embarrassment. He could almost feel Narcissa’s presence about ready to smack him upside the head, forgetting his manners. _Mum would murder me._

“It’s fine,” Hermione said. “Honestly, it’s just tennis—”

“And the first time I’m meeting your parents.” Draco began to stress. “Can we please just stop at the bakery in Hogsmeade before heading to your house?”

“Sure,” Hermione replied. _And I thought Ron and Harry were going to be the death of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Readers! I am really sorry it has taken me so long for an update. I’ve been struggling with getting this chapter right. I’ll be honest, I was just not feeling this story at all anymore. I was ready to give up and pull everything off the internet permanently delete the files, everything. I was just so mad and lacked direction. I guess you can say I hit my sophomore slump and hit a bit of a crux. So lots of alpha love to MotherofBulls. I honestly couldn’t have gotten through this chapter without her. This month is NaNoWriMo and I’m making AGWFF my main focus. I hope to make some headway on this story.  
> But if you are a fan of my other work, you may have seen that I kept busy and worked on a lot of fun projects between the last update to this one. I hope you were able to check them out or will check them out in the future. I wrote some spin-offs to the Confessions universe, a Dramione drabble, a Scorose one-shot, and an Albus and Polly mini-fic. I also started a crack fic called Trope Soup with MotherofBulls. Each chapter we tackle another ridiculous Dramione trope and tear it apart.  
> Until the next chapter, thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I’m also on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) and Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	8. Love, All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MotherofBulls and Mama2HPbabies  
> Notes: This chapter came a little easier to me. I hope you enjoy it.

When they arrived at the Grangers’ home, the young men sat nervously at the dining table sipping tea and eating pastries across from Mr. Granger, while Hermione was upstairs changing.

“First of all, thank you, boys, for the gifts. Such lovely manners. Now, which of you is the one I already dislike?” Hugh asked whilst looking over this teacup, not dropping eye contact.

Theo almost choked on his croissant trying not to laugh.

Draco managed to turn two shades paler than he already was and meekly said, “That would probably be me, sir. Draco Malfoy.”

“Yes. I know your name,” Hugh’s eyebrows narrowed. The stern look on Hermione’s father’s face caused Draco to fidget. “My daughter would come home during hols and tell me all about a boy who would make her life miserable and call her horrible names. I’m assuming you don’t have any sisters, do you, boy?”

“No, sir. I do not. I’m an only child,” He did his best not to sound terrified, but he didn’t do a very good job. Draco had no idea that Muggles could be so intimidating.

“Manners dictate that I don’t pry too in-depth into your upbringing, or pass judgment for the sins of our fathers,” Hugh stated while pouring himself another cup. Draco grew even more nervous wondering where this conversation was leading. “However, I must say, with all the manners instilled in you, I thought you would have been taught not to tease girls you like, and to treat them as young ladies.”

Draco had never wanted to be a Gryffindor so badly in his life. Just a little bit of courage could go a long way right now. He glanced over in Theo’s direction. The other Slytherin sat, cool as a cucumber, eating pastries and drinking tea without a care in the world. Then again, he’s not the boyfriend with a less than rosy past. Draco pulled on his proverbial ‘big boy pants’ and attempted to converse with Hermione’s father. “Sir, I have apologized to Hermione profusely for the things I said and did. I was but a misguided child and would be honored if you could allow me to ask for your forgiveness as well.”

The man with ash brown hair and a receding hairline leaned back and crossed his arms. He was quiet as he thought about Draco’s proposition. “However you treated my daughter in the past, stays in the past.  I will let you know, I trust my daughter’s decisions. But if anyone betrays her trust, they deal with me. I understand you have magic, but I am a father who loves his little girl. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered nervously.  

Hugh turned his attention to Theo, “And you, young man? Who are you?”

“I’m Theodore Nott, Mister Granger. I am the one who bought a tennis kit and is building an athletic facility for Muggleborns. I’m also Hermione’s partner in two classes, and I’ve never been cruel to her. Yet, she rejected me for my friend here.”

Draco scoffed and crossed his arms. _Unbelievable. Thanks, Theo. I really appreciate you pointing all of that out to Hermione’s father._

“Is that so?” Hugh’s eyebrow quirked. The wheels turned inside the father’s head. He found it interesting that she would bring two boys home. Then again, there was Harry and Ron, but they were just mates. The two young men in front of him had very different things on their mind other than being pals. Hugh shifted his attention back to Draco. “You have one day to change my preconceptions of you. Do you think can do that?”

“I will do my best, sir,” Draco attempted to regain some confidence.

“Dad! Stop being mean to my friends!” Hermione hollered, bounding down the stairs.

“I’m only being mean to one,” he called back.

She was now at the bottom of the stairs wearing the shortest, white tennis skirt, a fitted zipper jacket and wore her hair in a ponytail with a visor. Hermione practically skipped over to kiss her father on the cheek. The boys’ eyes were locked on the way the skirt swished with every step.

“Eyes up, boys,” Hugh caught them before she did. All three teenagers turned a deep shade of pink in shared embarrassment.

“Hugh!” Jean called as she descended the stairs. “You’re impossible! These poor boys have been in our home for less than twenty minutes!”

“I’m making up for all the times I never was able to do this while she was away at school,” he huffed.

Jean was adjusting her skirt as she made it to the first floor. The boys were shocked at how fit Hermione’s mother was, but it was not missed by her father. He gave them both ‘The Look,’ and they averted their eyes immediately.

After they all had their fill of pastries, tea, and coffee, Draco and Theo offered to clean up the table and dishes. Hermione and Jean laughed to themselves about how terrible they were at doing mundane things. Jean leaned into her daughter, “Are all wizards this terrible at housework?”

“Oh, these two especially. They are wizarding aristocrats. They have no clue how to do anything without servants.”

“Hermione, you and posh boys,” Jean scoffed, “I should have known.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She asked, perplexed at her mother’s assumption, “Viktor and Ron weren’t posh.”

“Viktor was a famous athlete, and Ron didn’t last. But there were all the little boys you had crushes on in primary school _and_ David. He’s starting at Oxford next week by the way,” Jean said with a bit of suggestion.

“Mother, please don’t make my life more complicated than it is. David and I were just...a fling.”

“Just making small talk. Speaking of which, should I tell the boys about your poster of Prince William?”

“Don’t you dare,” her eyes widened at the threat of sheer embarrassment. She heard a plate break and called to them, “Great job practicing your Muggle skills. You can use magic now.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Theo sighed.

The two waved their wands, and the mess was cleaned up and put away instantly. Hermione and her mother laughed at how hopeless they were.

“I understand why Muggle Studies is a course,” Jean joked.

“Mum, you have no idea.”

Hugh returned after loading the car to an immaculately cleaned kitchen and dining room. “Let’s teach these wizards how to play tennis, shall we?”

—xoxox—

“Alright, boys,” Hugh called to Theo and Draco while pacing back and forth on the court, assessing them, “neither of you has played tennis at all?”

“No, sir,” they replied in unison.

“Draco plays Quidditch,” Hermione chirped.

"Theodore, do you also play Quidditch?"

"No no no,” he laughed as he shook his head. “I have a fear of heights."

The older man’s smile was one any Slytherin would recognize—he was pleased, and he seemed to be plotting or deciphering something. "Interesting. Just like my Hermione. Feet on the ground and head out of the clouds. I like that."

Draco gulped, knowing things weren’t going well. He just had to impress Mister Granger, er, _Doctor_ Granger, with his athletic prowess and Missus Doctor Granger, with his charm.

Hermione massaged her temples realizing this was quite possibly the stupidest idea she ever had. Retrieving the Philosopher’s Stone? Nope. Using time travel to rescue a fugitive? Nada. Unsanctioned training of underage wizards? Erasing her parents’ memories? None of these seemed as bad of an idea as bringing her boyfriend and _just a friend_ to meet her father. _Of course,_ he was going to gravitate toward the one who hadn’t hurt his little princess. _Of course_ , he was going to try to make Draco’s life a living hell for their first encounter. This was a nightmare.

“Daddy, let’s just practice hitting the ball and the different swings,” Hermione suggested, hoping her father would stop boring holes into Draco’s skull.

“Wonderful idea, Hermit Crab,” he replied playfully. “Theo. You’re with me. Malfoy, with Hermione and Jean.” Hugh shooed Draco away with a such a blasé manner, the young man would have preferred his girlfriend’s father show him some attention, even if it was negative.

Draco rested his head on Hermione’s shoulder. “Your dad hates me. I’m so fucked.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. “Oh, he’s not that bad. Things could be worse.”

_Um, you mean like being physically detained and tortured in the middle of my house? Yeah. Much worse. Why am I whinging again?_ “I’ll do my best to get him to come around.”

“Oh, come on. You’re Draco Malfoy. I need you a little bit more cocky than that,” she quirked a smile.

_Should I ask her to say, ‘cock’ again? Nope. Nope. Focus, Draco._ “Your skirt is so hot.”

Hermione took a step forward, ready to press her lips against his. He looked precious and so preppy in his tennis whites.

“Ahem,” Jean interrupted the teens’ little conversation. “Draco, Hugh will be very, _very_ difficult to win over. But you can try winning me over, and you can start by showing me how quickly you can take to this sport. Shall we?”

“Yes, Missus Granger,” Draco took a big step to the side, away from Hermione.  

Surprisingly, learning tennis was not a disaster—quite the opposite. Theo and Draco took to the game so naturally, she wondered if they were using wandless magic to control the ball. Draco loved the tennis ball machine. He wondered if the concept could be applied to Quaffles. If he could figure out a spell that would continuously launch balls at his Keeper, it would really sharpen his skills.

Theo loved everything about the game. For one, it was on the ground and faulty magic was never an issue. Also, Hermione was right about his physique; his long, lanky limbs put him at quite the advantage. Tennis was a physical and mental game and he had never felt so at home in a sport before.

While their fathers would have disowned the younger men if they knew, the purebloods were thoroughly enjoying themselves playing the Muggle sport. The competitive spirit ran high. Perhaps it was residual animosity from the past two weeks, or possibly just their nature. The rivalry hit its peak when they began to play doubles and Jean acted as referee. The first game Hugh and Theo comprised of one team and Hermione and Draco, the other. Hermione’s father was thrilled to boast as he won the first round. She shot a look at Draco, accusing him of taking it easy and letting her father win.

“You know the way to impress him is by standing up to him, not kissing his arse,” she said mockingly. “Ready to go again?”

He took his stance and focused on his opponents. “Serve it.”

After a heated match, Hermione and Draco cinched the win. Hermione and the boys looked winded but happy. It had been a long time since they had all just played _anything_ for fun. Their lives had been studying, school, and war. Even Quidditch carried importance. This was just fun. Simple as that.

“Darling. I’m getting bored watching you four play while I’m on the side. Let’s have lunch already,” Jean pleaded.

“One more game, my love. Let’s shake things up a bit,” Hugh grinned as he bounced the ball up and down with his racquet. “Hermione, let’s switch for the next match.”

She passed her father and grabbed him by the arm, “Please be nice, Daddy.”

“I am. This is me extending the olive branch and playing with the miscreant.”

“Daddy…”

Hugh just smiled and booped his daughter on the nose. “Don’t hold, back.”

“Don’t you worry,” she returned the smile.   

“Hey you,” Theo greeted Hermione as she took her position.

“Theo, remember the other day when we were discussing the trajectory of spells and blocking?”

“I know what you’re saying,” he grinned, his smile as broad as the Cheshire Cat.

She gave him a wink and readied her stance.

Theo looked across the court to see Draco nervously preparing to serve the ball. He couldn’t help but taunt Draco, by tilting his head, making it visible he was checking out Hermione’s backside.

Draco lost his cool and served the ball out of bounds.

Hugh turned around and passive-aggressively scolded, “In the lines, please.”

“Sorry, sir,” he nervously apologized, and served again, sighing in relief at the solid swing.

Hermione went for the ball and volleyed it back to her father. Hugh hit it harder, toward Theo. He returned it and the ball moved too fast for anyone on the opposing team to return.

“Well done, my boy,” Hugh cheered for Theo.

_My boy? FUCK!_ Draco internally screamed. Theo isn’t even trying to get into Doctor Granger’s good graces. He was just being Theo. A surge of confidence came over Draco as he remembered what Hermione had told him earlier—be cocky. This was sport after all. He had always been the more athletic to the two purebloods and I was time to show Theo up.

It was Theo’s turn to serve and he did it magnificently. Draco was seriously impressed with the speed and accuracy in which he served, that there was no chance in hell for Doctor Granger or himself to return the ball. Hermione gave Theo a high five and a knowing laugh. They chatted to themselves as Hermione made gestures Draco deciphered as paths she wanted Theo to take. He didn’t need to be a lip reader to guess that much. “Doctor Granger?”

“Yes?” He replied.

“What do you make of Hermione’s directions to Theodore?”

The elder man smiled broadly, “Good catch, Draco. She caught on to Theodore’s precision. I think she’s going to have him serve as close to the line as possible.”

“Then we’ll hold our positions,” he returned the smile.

As her father predicted, that is exactly what Theo did. Draco and Hugh were ready. The ball careened toward Hugh, he lunged for the ball and hit it with all his might. “Agh!” he winced. “I think I pulled my shoulder.”

“Oh my gosh!” Hermione exclaimed.

Everyone ran to Hugh’s aid, much to his embarrassment. “I’m alright. Just an old man trying to keep up with some teenagers. A little ice and some ibuprofen and I’ll be fine.”

Hermione noticed the puzzled look on the boys’ faces at the mention of the over-the-counter drug. “Ibuprofen is like a pain and anti-inflammatory potion combined in an easy to take pill.”

“But how effective is it?” Draco asked curiously

“It’s not a cure-all,” she continued. “It just helps with the symptoms until the body heals itself.”

“Well, that’s rubbish. I could go to Diagon and get your dad a proper potion,” Draco suggested.

“Thank you for the offer but that won’t be necessary,” Hugh said warmly at the offer. “I’m getting hungry and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on lunch.”

Draco beamed at the prospect of him finally making some progress.

“Doctor Granger, may I try something?” Theo asked.

Wearily he asked, “What do you have in mind?”

“Just a simple cooling charm. It will help with the swelling until you can take your ibu—“

“Profen. Ibuprofen,” Hermione helped Theo find the words. She was impressed with Theo’s suggestion and insisted her father try it. “It’s a simple spell, Daddy. It will help.”

“Alright then,” the man relaxed and allowed the young wizard perform the spell.

Theo drew his concealed wand from the holster underneath his tennis shorts. Jean, Hermione, and Draco acted as human shields, hiding Theo and Hugh from view.

As Theo muttered the incantation, frigid air emitted from his wand, cooling Dr. Granger down to the muscle. At first, the elder man’s teeth chattered and his body shivered. After a while, he began to relax as the spell numbed the pain. “This is brilliant!” he exclaimed all but too excitedly. “It’s like cryotherapy but more localized. Goodness. I’m going to have to keep you around every time I play, Theodore.”

Hermione gave him a little punch on the shoulder as he beamed brightly. Theo responded, “Oh, it was nothing.”

Draco could have kicked himself. How could he forget about the cooling spell? To be fair, Potions was always his strength and preferred method over charms. He knew this was yet another point for Theo from Dr. Granger.

“While that was impressive, I’m starved. Are we ready for lunch?” Jean asked, but it was more of a motherly courtesy. They didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

After freshening up, they entered the dining room with the other club members. Theo and Draco felt quite at home surrounded by the not-so-subtle elitism and exclusivity. Their server greeted the Grangers by name and asked for their orders.

Jean looked up and answered for the group, “Let’s start with drinks. Gin and tonics for the table. Make mine and Hugh’s doubles.”

“Mum…” Hermione was uncertain of her mother’s suggestion.  

“What darling?” Jean couldn’t read her daughter’s expression. “Silly of me to assume your order. You are adults after all. Hermione, do you prefer a vodka soda? Boys, gin and tonic alright, or should we order champagne?”

Now, this was an interesting turn of events. Draco and Theo looked at each other for assurance on what was the proper response in this situation. Draco spoke first, “Your suggestion sounds perfect, Mrs. Granger.”

“The same,” Theo said nervously.

Hermione gave in. If her mother wanted this to be a drinking lunch, she was going to do this properly. “Two fingers, twelve-year single malt whisky, neat. Something with a light peat.”

“Hermione…” Jean tapped her watch.

Looking down at her watch, it was still five minutes until noon. She rolled her eyes that her mother was being this much of a stickler for drinking etiquette. “I’ll take the vodka soda, twist of lemon, but I’ll take the whisky after my meal.”

Jean nodded in agreement.

Draco leaned in and whispered in Hermione’s ear, “Honestly, your mother and mine would get along splendidly.”

“Except for the fact she’s a Muggle,” Hermione intoned.

He swallowed knowing that was partially true. Without going too in depth of his mother’s soul-searching, he simply said, “She’s working on it.”

She smiled in a way that showed he understood and squeezed his hand.

Theo was avoiding their public display of affection and turned his attention to Hugh who had just asked him a question.

“Theo, did Hermione explain to you our ‘code’?”

He nodded and chuckled in response. “Yes. It’s quite brilliant.”

Hermione nudged Draco in the arm, hinting that he might want to engage in conversation with her father. “We practiced in the carriage ride and our walk through town early this morning,” he said eagerly, still desperately trying to stay in Hugh’s good graces.

“Very good. So Draco, are you ready for the _football_ season?” Jean asked.

Draco couldn’t help but smile at the elaborate wizard to Muggle code the Grangers had devised. “I hope so. We’ve been training daily. Our first match is next week on Hermione’s birthday.”

“Oh,” the woman who looked like an older version of her daughter remarked sadly. “So you won’t be coming home?”

“I’m not, but we’ll have plenty of time together. I’m taking Theo and Draco back to school after lunch, and I’ll be back to spend tonight and tomorrow with you. And I’ll come next Sunday,” she reasoned with her mother, trying to shake away some of the guilt.

Draco’s did his best not to look disappointed as he hadn’t known what Hermione had planned. He was looking forward to spending the weekend with her, but he knew that was selfish, all things considered. They hadn’t been a couple long and were still growing into their roles and all that entailed.

“I heard Potter and Weasley have something huge planned for you, Hermione,” Theo said suggestively.

Now this, Draco knew about. “Yes, Weasley is dating one of my housemates, and oldest friends, Daphne. I’m sorry, Hermione. I don’t want to ruin any surprises, but now that Daph is involved, your party is going to be HUGE.”

“Good God,” she cringed.

“Oh, it will be fun,” Theo added. “The Greengrasses are known for their tasteful, elegant soirees but always add a bit of fun without being too stuffy. We promise. You’ll have a good time.”

Draco nodded in agreement. Not that he wanted to agree with Theo, but Hermione needed to see them play nice.

“You should enjoy the party, Hermit Crab,” Hugh insisted, taking his drink from the waiter. “Now, Theodore, what is your main course of study?”

He had to look back to Hermione as he couldn’t remember the Muggle equivalent of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She mouthed the words and he repeated aloud, “Symbolic Languages and Theoretical and Practical Mathematics.” He looked strained as he strung the foreign words together.

Jean and Hugh nodded, impressed. Hermione had explained to her parents that those were some of the most challenging courses at the school as they implied a decent knowledge of history, anthropology, maths, and physics, in addition to magic, of course.

“Do you have any plans on how you will apply that as a career?” Hugh asked, genuinely interested.

Theo quirked a smile and answered, “I inherited my family’s import-export business and it’s currently run by the board until I assume my position as CEO. They gave me until I turn thirty. Until then, I would like to enjoy being a scholar, go into field research focusing on comparative studies. Perhaps even take up anthropology, archaeology, and dead languages at a university. You know, get a good grasp of how our truth became your fiction. Maybe even write a book or two.”

Hermione bit her lips, doing anything she could to keep her jaw from dropping to the table. Everything Theo just said might as well have been Shakespeare. She knew he was smart and wealthy but she had no idea how far he was willing to take his academia.

Jean smiled brightly, more than impressed. “Rather ambitious of you. One could say you’re a combination of Bruce Wayne and Indiana Jones.”

“Who?” His face contorted in confusion.

“Film characters,” Hermione laughed. “Maybe we will watch it in cultural studies.”

“But is that a good thing?” he questioned, still unsure.

“It’s a good thing, Theodore,” Jean winked. The Granger matriarch turned to the other boy and implored, “And you, Draco? What is your focus of study and do you have plans?”

“Chemistry and Botany. I already have an apprenticeship lined up where I’ll study under experts and labs around the world. I’m interested in the availability of product and progressing formulation processes. Many of our methods are antiquated and could use advancements in the field.” Draco also felt odd using the Muggle vernacular.

“Is this the same program you were accepted to, Hermione?” Hugh’s tone seemed stern and fatherly, unsure if he truly approved of this so-called honor.

“Yes, Daddy. It’s very exclusive. Draco was the only other student in the program—” she saw her father about to protest, “—but, we just found out yesterday that they’ll be opening it to one boy and one girl from each of the boarding schools and we’ll be touring as a group.”

“Yes—” Draco interjected a little too quickly. “The Min...er… _government_ is eager to build up international relations considering recent years and the last time we had the European schools together, it was the Triwiz...I mean…” he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Keeping up this charade was more difficult than he could imagine. To believe Hermione has been doing this for seven years. Even crazier, his pureblood aunt married a Muggleborn and had to do this for _decades_.

“The interschool triathlon, Dad,” Hermione covered for Draco. She could see he was struggling and put her hand on his knee reassuringly. “Mum, Dad, as you can see, we have some ground to cover in cultural studies.” Hermione turned to Theo on her left and smiled then to Draco on her right. She was impressed how well they were handling things.

“Is everyone ready to order?” The waiter interrupted.

After all their orders had been placed, the five continued their talk about school and goals for the future.

The alcohol was taking effect and Mr. Granger unknowingly asked Theo about his family. Hermione had forgotten to prepare her father on the subject.

Looking as though he had expected this topic of conversation, the handled himself well. “My mother died when I was quite young.”

“Oh, my dear. I’m so sorry,” Jean said sincerely.

“Thank you. It’s alright. My father,” he steadied himself, knowing it was difficult to explain to strangers, “is a war criminal and was incarcerated. I haven’t had contact with him since the conviction at the trial. The courts granted me sole executor of the estate.”

“That takes a lot of tenacity to be that open with us, Theodore. Thank you. I’m sorry so much responsibility was thrust upon you at such a young age.” Hugh said though the words were difficult to find. “Estate, you say? Whereabout?”

“It’s on an island, offshore, hidden between Knott End-on-Sea and Blackpool. It’s big and empty. Not sure if I want to return to it after the school year. Maybe one day, if I ever start a family.” Theo looked down at the refreshing cocktail awaiting him and gulped it down quickly trying to suppress the myriad of emotions bubbling to the surface.  

“I don’t remember any islands in that area, other than the Isle of Man…” Jean began to ramble.

“Mum,” Hermione caught her mother’s attention. “He said it was _hidden.”_

“Oh. _OH!”_ the suggestion finally hitting her. The gin had hit Jean much faster than expected. She must have burned off her breakfast during their workout leaving the alcohol to go straight to her bloodstream.

“You know, I was never that close of friends with Hermione or her friends, but I’m glad things changed this year,” Theo turned to her. “It’s been nice talking to Pott—Harry about things. We’re in similar situations, as far as no family, inheritances, and responsibilities—we aren’t quite sure what to do.”

Hermione’s heart swelled in her chest. Her friendship with Theo led him to Harry. These boys who had been dealt terrible childhoods found common ground. If it weren’t for house rivalries and opposite sides of the war forcing them apart, who knows what kind of friendship could have formed.

She felt her right hand being squeezed tightly by long calloused fingers. Draco looked at her with pleading eyes, not wanting to talk about his family. She whispered to him, “It can wait until we are in a more private place.”

“Thank you,” was all he could come up with. Once upon a time, he was so proud of the Malfoy family legacy. But as of late, not so much. The weight of it all was suffocating at times. He had an inkling that the Grangers knew enough. One day he would tell them more, but not at this moment. “Excuse me, I need to head to the Gents.”

The Grangers nodded and excused him. Jean went on to chat Theo up about his interest in archaeology and anthropology as it was also a subject she had a passion for. Hermione was enjoying the conversation and would giggle every time he would forget ‘code’ and use magical references. Thankfully, he knew how to speak politely in close social situations, so that no one could overhear their conversation.

“Hello, Bookworm,” a voice cooed in Hermione’s ear. She gulped knowing exactly who it was.

“David!” Hugh exclaimed. “So nice to see you. What are you doing here?”

“Yes,” Jean chimed in, “Shouldn’t you be enjoying all the Freshers activities?”

“Later tonight. Just joining my parents for lunch at the club, then driving up.” The strapping young man with ice blue eyes and dirty blond hair slid into the empty chair and reached across to shake Theo’s hand. “David Middleton.”

“Theodore Nott,” he shook his hand cordially and quirked a smile imagining how hilarious this would be when Draco returned.

“Hermione, is this the lucky man who can claim you as his girlfriend?” he implored with a quirk of the eyebrow.   

Theo answered for her, seeing that Hermione was unable to form words. “Sadly, she has classified me as ‘just a friend.’’’

“Ah, I know the feeling,” David sighed and nudged Hermione, seeing her growing uncomfortable. “Oh, come on Hermione. I’m just teasing. Give me a hug, we haven’t seen each other in over a year.”

Begrudgingly, she allowed him to take her in an embrace. The last time he had held her, she was saying goodbye and ending things. The moments they shared were innocent. The type of defining moments every teenager should partake, but the truth was he was merely a distraction before she went off to battle. She had her duty and there was no space in her world for him.

Draco returned to the dining room to find some bloke in _his_ seat, hugging _his_ girlfriend, and making her smile. _Shit. He must be the Muggle ex._ Taking a moment to survey the table, he saw Hermione’s parents were on their third cocktail and didn’t look bothered. Theo glanced toward Draco and back to Hermione and found the whole situation amusing. Jealousy began to bubble to the surface. He needed to calm down. Focusing on the task at hand, he closed his eyes and steadied his breathing.

Once he felt the collected, confident Draco take root, he walked back to his seat. Hermione had already broken the embrace, but David stayed to chat. “Excuse me, mate. You’re in my seat.”

“I’m sorry,” he stood and extended a hand in apology. “David Middleton.”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“Interesting…” his voice trailed, “the name sounds familiar, but I’m not sure where from. Do you row perchance?”

“Fraid not,” he paused wondering if he should mention he played _football_ but it would be just his luck and have David segue into a long discussion about a sport he knew nothing about. “I guess you’re a rower.” Draco examined the man who was about an inch or two taller than he was, with even broader shoulders.

“Yes. Oxford, like my father and his father before him. Family traditions and all,” he said haughtily.

“Of course. Family traditions are important.” For the first time in his life, Draco knew what it was to hear himself, and he wasn’t fond of it. On the other hand, in some strange way, he felt closer to Hermione. Blood status aside, she was brought up well,  knew how to behave in society, and even the men she attracted were of a certain caliber. If she had been sorted into Slytherin, he would have picked up on all of this so much sooner. But that was in the past and his current problem was in the form of a posh, Muggle, ex-fuck buddy. “Excuse me. I need to take my seat. It looks as though my food is about to arrive.”

“I apologize,” David said with a bit of a bow and moved behind Hermione’s chair. “I should be going. I told my parents I would be by just to say hello and it appears as though I stayed a bit too long.”

Jean took another big swig of her drink, “Nonsense! We can have them pull up another chair.”

“ _Mother…”_ Hermione said through gritted teeth. “As much as I am enjoying David’s visit, the table is quite full, as well as _my plate._ ” The emphasis was not referring to her lunch.

“It’s fine, Jean. Honestly.” David walked around the table to kiss her on the cheek, shake hands with both Hugh, Theo, and Draco, and finally gave Hermione a quick peck on the cheek. “I hope to see you during Christmas.”

“I don’t know if that’s a possibility. I always visit my friend Ronald’s family, and my parents and I had discussed skiing...” Hermione trailed and stared at her empty glass, wondering where the waiter was so she could order another cocktail. In the corner of her eye, she could see Draco seething. Not wanting to sound completely rude, but really wanting David to step away before her boyfriend hexed him, she just said, “It was lovely seeing you.”

David smiled, knowing that she was politely trying to brush him off. He then nodded to Draco and Theo, “Nice to meet you both. Farewell everyone.”

Once he had left, Hermione kissed Draco in reassurance. “Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“Not making a scene. I know that was awkward.”

“Was it?” Theo playing naive. “Thought he was a right nice chap. Do you two have history?”

“Oh yes,” Hugh answered drunkenly. They don’t know how it happened, but he had no less than four empty glasses before him, while the trio only had one each. “Hermione and David have known each other since they were in nappies. They got a little bit closer the summer after her sixth year and then it just ended. Come to think of it, that was right before she erased—”

“Daddy, enough,” she cut him off before he violated the Statute of Secrecy. “Can we all please just eat and end this lunch already? Where is that waiter?”

Once their food finally arrived, everyone eagerly ate their meals. All the activity of the morning had made them hungry.

Hugh swallowed and directed his attention to the boys. “Draco, you’re a nice young man despite your history with Hermione. You are no longer in the ‘danger zone’ and are now in the ‘safe zone’.”

“Thank you, sir, that means a lot.” Weight felt like it was taken off of his shoulders. While he didn’t say it aloud, Draco knew he still had some work to do until he was in the ‘like zone.’ Hugh and Jean's approval meant so much to Draco. He couldn’t explain it; perhaps subconsciously, he knew that if at least one set of parents supported the relationship, they had a chance.

“Theo, my boy,” Hugh added, interrupting Draco’s moment of reflection. “Since you aren’t busy with _football_ and you have a natural inclination for tennis, do you think you’d like to try squash?”

Puzzled, Theo asked, “Squash? As in the gourd?”

Hugh snickered at the comment. “Ha. No. Squash is another racquet game, but played indoors. I play during the winter months. Jean is a purist and only plays tennis in the summer so I don’t have a regular partner. Also, I wouldn’t mind having you around when I pull my shoulder out again. If you’re around, of course. No need to go out of your way to play with your friend’s dad.”

Draco blinked rapidly unable to believe this situation. While Doctor Granger no longer hated him, Theo was actually becoming _friends_ with Hermione’s dad.

Theo smiled graciously. “Thank you, sir. I have quite a busy study schedule on the weekends, but I’ll mail you if I have free time.”

“Well I like you both,” Jean slurred, “You’re both smart, handsome, well-mannered, and charming as hell. And you look just darling in tennis shorts. Come round whenever you like.”

“Oh my, God.” Hermione reminded herself how much she loved her parents but swore she would never subject her friends or significant other to the drunken musings of Jean and Hugh Granger ever again.

“Hey,” Draco leaned in, “So I think your dad thinks I’m tolerable and your mum thinks I’m fit. I’d call this weekend a win.”

“Oh, come on Hermione. Your parents are charming drunks,” Theo chimed in.

“Both of you. Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	9. Good Morning, Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the teenage movie moment the kids of Harry Potter deserved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired the chapter: HELLO 1998! Well, I also mixed in some early-mid 2000s  
> Thinking 'Bout You – Dua Lipa  
> Spice Up Your Life – Spice Girls  
> Crush – Jennifer Paige  
> I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor – Arctic Monkeys  
> Too Close – Next
> 
> Beta: MotherofBulls and Mama2HPbabies
> 
> Notes: Sorry folks, December kicked my butt. I really didn’t want to let so much time pass between updates. I hope you enjoy. And my Christmas gift to you is a second chapter right after this! 
> 
> Also, the house elf in this fic is named after my son’s security blanket. Adorable, right?

Hermione snickered quietly to herself as the two pureblood boys recounted their outing into the Muggle world with the class. They both implemented straight-forward vocal inflections, attempting not to boast about their proclivity toward the Muggle sport. Though it was when they described their heated competition with great detail and recalled the maneuvers and precision needed for the sport— without the aid of magic, no less--that they each showed an edge of cockiness. Hermione allowed them to relay their excitement—for a little while. She let it slip that the following day, they were both so sore, she needed to administer several muscle-relaxing potions to get them out of bed. Theo and Draco both laughed off the teasing, especially when she mentioned their ineptitude with household chores. 

When the topic of her parents came up, Draco didn’t delve too far into the subject other than the fact they seemed to be warming up to him and were willing to give him a chance. Theo, on the other hand, sang the Grangers’ praises and would gladly hang out with them, with or without Hermione. She cast a glance at him and smiled warmly at that comment. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined two Slytherins having fun with her Muggle parents at a racquet club. 

Knowing it would have been mortifying and an excellent source material for the gossip mill, Draco and Theo stayed tight-lipped about the awkward situation meeting David. There had been enough relationship drama surrounding them, no need to add an ex to the mix. 

The rest of the week passed by in a blur—Quidditch practices, prefect rounds and meetings, group study, and planning Hermione's party. It wasn't the ideal way for Hermione and Draco to spend their first official week as boyfriend and girlfriend. There were times they sat in class sitting next to each other sharing gazes and the odd brush of the knee, laughing and joking during meals, and stolen moments in hidden corners of the school but it wasn't enough. The spark between them had lit a fire, the last thing they wanted was to see it fizzle out and turn to embers. 

—xoxox—

Saturday finally arrived, and Draco prepared a surprise for Hermione’s birthday. When she woke, a vase of fragrant flowers sat upon her desk, filling her room with their scent. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she didn't notice the house elf waiting to serve her breakfast in bed. He patiently coughed and nodded his head gesturing to the note on the tray. 

_Good morning, Beauty._

_I’m already out on the pitch. I’ll see you after our win._

_Yours,_

_DM_

“Sure you’ll win,” she huffed sarcastically. The Slytherin may be her boyfriend, but she was still loyal to her House. This girl bled scarlet and gold. Groggily, she sat up and stretched lazily. Once comfortably erect, Hermione gave the elf permission to place a tray on her lap. 

“Mistress Hermione. Master Draco said to Bubby, tell you I is a free elf.”

Hermione quirked her eyebrow in disbelief, _“Is that so?”_

“Bubby is freed by accident.” He twisted his pristine, light blue tunic. “Master Draco couldn’t find something and was making a big mess and threw a shirt on Bubby’s head and said, ‘Take this.’” 

“Was Draco telling you to take the laundry to get cleaned when you claimed independence?”

The elf smiled mischievously causing Hermione to snicker. Draco Malfoy, outsmarted by the help. She would have to talk to him about that later, but for now, she would let him focus on Quidditch, and she would eat breakfast. 

The food smelled delightful, and she smiled brightly as the elf removed the cloche. “American pancakes.” Hermione couldn’t stop smiling. It was two weekends ago that she had told him they were her favorite; he even managed to get her maple syrup. “Thank you, Bubby,” she said appreciatively and dismissed the elf.  

With a nod and a bow, the elf disapparated with a pop. 

—xoxox—

Hermione met up with Neville, Hannah, and Seamus to head down to the pitch. They climbed into the lift when they heard, “Hold up!”

Theo snuck through before the doors closed, slightly out of breath. “Thanks.” He didn’t seem to be the most supportive of his house wearing a dark gray wool turtleneck, a black peacoat, and black trousers and boots. The only bit of Slytherin paraphernalia was a small pin on his lapel. 

“No house pride?” Hermione cast a judging glance. She, on the other hand, was wearing her house muffler, a burgundy beret and matching cowl neck sweater dress, her school cloak with house sigil, all finished with knee-high riding boots.

“House pride is on the inside.” He held his hand over his heart feigning offense to her accusation. “You on the other hand. No green? I thought you’d be supporting Draco today.”

“I like him and all, but this is Quidditch.” The finality in her voice proved that this was more than just a game. Maybe the years of having two, no, three best friends who were rabid fans and players on the house team, finally got to her. She was a Quidditch fan. 

Theo gasped mockingly and shook his head disapprovingly.

Then Hermione smiled coyly and pulled up her sleeve to reveal a gold charm bracelet with a snitch, a snake, a lion, and a rose dangling from it. “This is about as much Slytherin my wardrobe can handle.”

Theo's playful demeanor changed and swallowed seeing the trinket upon her wrist. He forced a smile and asked, “Birthday present?”

“Yes," she replied shyly. "Draco gave it to me last night knowing he wouldn’t see me in the morning. He wanted me to wear it to the match,” she gave a subtle smile and quickly pulled the sleeve back down. 

He opened his mouth to say something but was asked a question from Seamus as the lift stopped.

“Nott, you ready for the party?” 

“I don’t know,” he answered mischievously. “Are we ready to party, Longbottom?” He nudged the Gryffindor egging on a reaction. 

Neville suppressed a snicker. “Oh, we are. And Hannah here is an excellent baker, so there will be a variety of treats for the party.” 

“You know, I wasn’t sure how brown butter, or rather, green butter would work for a pumpkin pasty crust, but it is incredible,” Hannah said excitedly. “The herbaceousness balances with the sweetness of the pumpkin and the butter.” 

Hermione scoffed in disbelief. “You do know that I’m Head Girl, don’t you?” She wondered how her friends could be so transparent about their illegal activities in front of her, then again, she was probably the worst rule breaker out of all of them. Hermione wondered if she had any authority at all with the eighth-years.

“How could we forget? Especially with that thing,” Theo joked, poking at the Head Girl badge secured to her cloak. “We’ll make sure you get first dibs, birthday girl.”

—xoxox—

First game of the year. First game after the war. First game Hermione didn't have any ill will towards Slytherin. As she looked around, the stands were teeming with life. The underclassmen, especially the first-years, wore their house colors proudly and made their presence in the crowd known. The eighth-years took a more inter-house approach and intermingled in their own section next to the alumni. The group that had met in the lift remained together were passing around a thermos of steamy apple cider spiked with cinnamony Firewhisky. Yet again, Hermione turned a blind eye as she was freezing and welcomed its warmth. The jars of blue flames she set around them didn’t do enough for this unseasonably cold September morning.

A dreamy voice came booming over the speakers. _“Welcome to the first match of the nineteen ninety-eight, ninety-nine season! I’m Luna Lovegood, and I have a very special guest commentator in the box with me.”_

_“Hello everyone, Blaise Zabini here. Thanks for the invitation, Luna. I had planned on just coaching from the sidelines, but I can do that so much better from here.”_

_“That’s not how this works, Zabini. You’re supposed to give unbiased commentary.”_

_“That’s ridiculous, Lovegood. No one in this box has ever been unbiased. For those of you are wondering why I’m in this box and not on the pitch, one of our Beaters—ahem. Greg.—let a Bludger get past him and hit knocked my shoulder out of place. I should be fine by Monday. In my place will be the youngest member of our team, Evan Montague. He’s small, but he is mighty. For the older students in the audience, may remember his big brother and former captain, Graham, who is in the audience today. Grrrrrrraaaaaaaaaham! What a ledge. As for the remainder of the Slytherin Roster, we have Chasers Harper and Collins, Beaters Goyle and Derrick, Keeper Bender, last but not least, Captain and Seeker, Draco Malfoy.”_

The applause from the crowd for the was noticeable, but nothing compared the booming hero worship erupting from the spectators as the players clad in red and gold, rose higher and higher into the sky.

_“Thank you for that very colorful roster introduction, Blaise. Looks like Gryffindor got the band back together. Chasers Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Demelza Robins, Beaters Peakes and Coote, Keeper Ron Weasley, and Captain and Seeker, Harry Potter.”_

_“In an act of unity, Headmistress McGonagall invited two former rivals, and two of the fiercest professional players to come from Hogwarts, to release the Snitch, Bludgers, and Quaffle,”_ Blaise paused. _“Can everyone stand and give a big round of applause to Oliver Wood, former Gryffindor Captain and Keeper for Puddlemere United, and Marcus Flint, former Slytherin Captain, Chaser for Falmouth Falcons.”_

Madam Hooch cast her eyes between the teams looking for their readiness—

 _“And there is the whistle!”_ Luna squealed. _“My that little Montague is speedy.”_

_“I told you.”_

_“Aren’t you afraid he’s going to take your spot?”_

_“Um…”_ He paused, not realizing that could be a possibility but was awoken from the momentary contemplation as he saw the quaffle sail easily through a hoop. _“GOOOOOOOAL! HIS FIRST TIME IN A SLYTHERIN UNIFORM AND MONTAGUE WITH THE FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON! Way to go, little buddy!”_

_“Looks like Ron is getting a bit slow. I heard he was caught sneaking out of the Slytherin dorms last night.”_

_“Was he now?”_ He took his omnioculars to scour the crowd, _“Daph, do we need to have a talk? Don’t cover your face in embarrassment. We’re adults.”_

“Mister Zabini,” Headmistress McGonagall scolded, “Keep your commentary to Quidditch and not your friends’ love lives.”

“Sorry Professor,” his apology sounding ingenuine as he said it with a smirk.

 _“Another ten points to Slytherin! This time it’s Collins with the goal.”_ Luna looked toward the Gryffindors with concern. _“Oh, no. It looks like Ron and Harry are arguing. They are very much like an old married couple. There was this one time over the summer Ron was looking for his socks…”_

 _“GOAL!”_ Blaise exclaimed giddily. _“Potter didn’t call an official time-out, so the goal by Montague through the unattended goal still counts. Here we go, things are getting interesting. Ginny Weasley seems to be getting infuriated by her brother’s incompetence and manages to block an attempt by Harper and makes the turnover. She’s moving fast, all we can see is a blur of red and Gryffindor is finally on the scoreboard. Bender! Keep your eyes open. We know Weasley’s hot, but eyes on the Quaffle.”_

 _“Let’s see what our Seekers are up to.”_ Luna looks up wistfully to the skies, _“It looks like Harry isn't looking around and still yelling at Ron. I’m a pretty good lip reader...rad owner?”_

 _“I think the word you are looking for is hangover,”_ Blaise chuckled. _“Nice, Weasley. Hear that, Slytherins? Let’s make some noise! Keeper Weasley is nursing a ‘hangover.’ Oh, this is in the bag. Another ten point by Collins!”_

From the stands, Hermione, Seamus, and Neville cringed at the massacre while Theo, Millie, and Astoria enjoyed the rare moment of gloating. 

“Can everyone be quiet for a little bit,” Daphne groaned while massaging her temples.

Astoria looks at her older sister with a snicker. “How much wine did you and Ron drink last night?” 

“A bottle or two? Not sure. Lost count,” she replied shamefully and pulled a vial out of her pocket and knocked it back. “ _Eck!_ Can someone make sobering potions taste better?”

“Daph, I think that taste is part of the reason you sober up so quick,” Theo teased. He turned to a tense Hermione who was staring at the skies observing Draco while searching for the Snitch.

“I’m so going to lose this bet,” Hermione muttered under her breath.

Theo’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Bet?”

“Draco and I…” she paused, “Oh, you probably don’t want to know.”

“If it’s anything I would want to wager, no, I don’t want to know.” Swallowing his jealousy, he changed the subject. “So do you honestly think you’ll be sober enough to meet your parents for lunch tomorrow.”

“How drunk do you think I’m going to get tonight?” She scoffed.

With a wicked grin, he replied, “Extremely. Maybe you’ll even try a few other substances...”

“I am the model of responsibility, Mister Nott,” feigning innocence. “I would _never_ allow myself to be swayed by such terrible influences.”

“Uh, huh,” he responded sarcastically. “We’ll see about that.”

Hermione bumped the side of her hip against his playfully and shook her head with a laugh.

Elsewhere in the stands, two of the other Slytherin girls were generally disinterested. Pansy Parkinson chatted up her Muggle Studies partner, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He explained to her about the much more elegant sport of polo. 

“Well for one,” Justin explained, “there is required dress and code of conduct. It’s a sport for the civilized. Not the loud shouting of ruffians in the stands.”

“Fascinating. Tell me more...” Parkinson’s lashes fluttered as she discovered the gentile side of Muggle life.

Tracey Davis rolled her eyes at Pansy’s flirtation with the muggleborn and worked on her manicure. Occasionally, Davis would look up to a certain Gryffindor chaser. Yes, Dean Thomas was easy on the eyes. Very much so. The muscular build, the mocha skin, and the boyish smile. Tracey’s mind began to wander, thinking about all the time they’ve been spending together as of late.

Whoosh! Dean quickly sped by her and flashed her a winning smile, waking from her daydream. She beamed brightly back at him and hoped someone would catch the bloody Snitch already and end this game.

 _“Blaise, duck!”_ Luna squealed.

He launched himself over the Ravenclaw protectively bringing them both to the floor. A Bludger screamed over their heads and blasted a hole in the back of the announcer’s booth.

Once the enchanted ball had passed, Zabini jumped up and grabbed the microphone neglecting the dust and debris on his clothes. _“Goyle! I’m going to kill you! Are you trying to hit my other shoulder? For Merlin’s sake!”_ He huffed. Finally realizing his state, he took a moment to preen before returning to his commentary. _“Draco Malfoy seems to be hovering and straining. Does he see the snitch? Luna, pass me the Omnioculars again.”_

“So, Granger,” Theo drawled taking a look above him, “care for a little wager?”

“Did someone say gambling?” Seamus’s ears perked. The Irishman reached into his pocket for a little ledger. “Alright, what are we talking about?”

Nott draped his arm around Hermione’s shoulder casually. “I bet I can make Slytherin lose just by doing this.”

“Oh, I’m not taking this bet,” Hermione protested knowing exactly what he was proposing. “As much as I want Gryffindor to win, not like this.”

“Ahem, _Confundus_ …” Neville pretended to cough.

 _“Neville...”_ Hermione’s eyes darted in his direction.

“Oh, _do_ tell, Longbottom.” Theo’s insatiable curiosity got the best of him while his arm was still comfortably around Hermione.

“Nott…” Draco growled through gritted teeth. He knew now wasn’t the time to let his jealousy get the best of him but a glint of light taunted him toward their direction. 

Still peering through the Omninoculars, Blaise screamed into the microphone with the ire of many a coach on the sidelines. _“Draco! Stop staring at Granger. Look for that damn Snitch! Theo! Seriously! Get your arm off Granger. If you keep egging Draco on and cause us to lose this match I’m going to—I can’t believe it! What are you doing, Draco? Why are you flying straight into the crowd? Wait. No way! The Snitch was actually hovering next to Hermione and Theo! DRACO MALFOY HAS THE SNITCH! OH, MY GOD! I’VE WAITED EIGHT YEARS FOR THIS! WE FINALLY BEAT GRYFFINDOR AND IN RECORD TIME! SLYTHERIN WINS! THANK YOU, JESUS!”_ Blaise hollered excitedly into the microphone.

Surprised, Luna said, _“I didn’t know you were a Christian.”_

 _“Catholic. Dad’s from Rome and Mum’s from Paris. No way of getting out of that one,”_ Blaise explained. 

_“Fascinating…”_

_“Miss Lovegood. Mister Zabini. Can your discussion on theology wait until after you announce the final score?”_ McGonagall huffed.  

_“Sorry, Headmistress. The final score is one-hundred ninety Slytherin, to ten Gryffindor. This has been Blaise Zabini.”_

_“And Luna Lovegood. Oh and a very special Happy Birthday to Head Girl, Hermione Granger!”_

_“Yeah Granger, now that his match was so short, your party is going to rage all day long! Signing off!”_

—xoxox—

Bottles of butterbeer, ale, Firewhisky, and even Muggle spirits littered every available surface of the eighth-year compound. The alcohol was flowing, and not one student passed the opportunity to partake. It was the moment of teenage frivolity they were denied in the midst of war. 

Noticing the lack of bodies on the dance floor, a few inquisitive Ravenclaws were able to tinker with a Muggle radio. They spelled it to alternate between Muggle and wizard stations and modified amplification charms so that music could be heard in every room. Students immediately leaped to their feet and grabbed their partners at the sounds of the rhythmic booming. 

While dancing wasn’t for everyone, students split off, in separate areas. In a corner, Theo, Neville, and Hannah along with a few others relaxed in a hazy cloud of smoke and uncontrollable laughter. 

Ernie MacMillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Pansy Parkinson, and some Ravenclaws engaged in more relaxed conversation on the settee sharing a bottle of wine discussing politics and their futures in the new regime, purebloods and Muggleborns alike. 

In true Gryffindor fashion, the emboldened Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan initiated drinking games. One of which was a twist on the choice game of Muggle university students, beer pong.  

“Alright,” Dean spoke up, with his arm around Tracey’s waist and her head on his shoulder. “So we’re going to show you how this works.” 

Dean beamed brightly at his new girlfriend. At times he found it impossible to look away from her latte colored skin and tight bouncy curls. The Muggle Studies course seemed to be bringing several couples who would have never talked to each other if they weren’t forced to. 

“So the Muggles play this with just beer, but as an added twist, three of the cups have potions,” Tracey added while looking at Dean coyly. “Laugh-a-Lot, Kiss-a-Krush, and Up-N-Chuck. They are all from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, so they are all safe and have antidotes.”

“Dean. Tracey. Me and Millie are going to smoke you,” Seamus chuckled with the ping-pong ball in his hand ready to go. He chirped as he felt a little pinch on his bottom. 

Bulstrode gave him a wink causing him to blush the color of his house jumper. More than pleased with the Irishman’s reaction, she challenged their opponents with, “It’s going down.”

“Bring it,” Dean and Tracey said in unison.

The Head Boy and Head Girl turned a disregarded all the misdeeds as they were partaking in the festivities as well. They even broke the rules and allowed a few choice seventh years to join. 

_“Muah!”_ Ginny sloppily kissed Hermione on the mouth and threw her arms around the birthday girl.

Stunned, Hermione muttered, “Um, thanks?”

Harry, Ron, Daphne, Draco, and Blaise laughed uncontrollably at the youngest Weasley’s affections.

“Do I taste like Harry?” She slurred.

“Oh, gross!” Blaise chuckled as he winced.

“Ginevra Weasley, if you kissed me after giving Harry a blow—“

“No! Snogging only...for now,” she whispered, “but I’m so horny, it might be sooner than later.”

“Oooookay then.” Hermione wriggled out of Ginny’s grasp and gently pushed her in Harry’s direction. “Harry, I think your girlfriend needs some attending to.”

Harry smirked and caught Draco staring at Hermione’s behind. “And I think your boyfriend needs attending to as well.”

She whipped around and caught Draco’s blatant indiscretion. 

He threw his arms up in defeat. “You caught me. Muggle jeans just do something to me.”

She sidled up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. As she reached up to kiss him, he placed a bottle of butterbeer up to her lips. 

“Take a sip. I’d rather not indirectly kiss Potter.”

Hermione gave Draco a wicked grin as she sipped on the beer. “You shouldn’t say ‘kiss Potter’ so loud, Draco. Mustn’t give anyone any ideas.” 

Draco used his thumb to wipe her lips. “You’re right. We mustn’t give anyone the wrong ideas.” He leaned in and kissed her not caring who looked on.

Their friends spurred him on with their mix of cheers and mock disgust. He relished in the attention, still astonished how drastically his life has changed these past three weeks just by having Hermione part of it.

“Oi! Malfoy!” Ron threw a bottle cap at the blond menace. “You’re going to make me lose my lunch.”

With a wicked smile, he pried his lips away from Hermione. Without taking his eyes off her, he muttered, “Weasley, now you know how I feel watching you with Daph.”

Daphne snickered, “Boys. Enough. I swear it’s like you’re regressing instead of maturing.”

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” Draco drawled as he pulled Hermione closer to his chest, nuzzling his face in her hair.

She turned to face him when familiar beats began to reverberate through the cavernous compound. _“Aah! IT’S MY SONG!”_ Hermione squealed as she grabbed Draco by the hand and pulled him to the dance floor. Stumbling after her, he followed his witch as she dragged him with all her might. There was something about the upbeat Muggle pop song and the way it lit up Hermione’s face that entranced him. It made him forget about everything except the present, and he hoped things could always stay this way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is so much more I wanted to do with Dean and Tracey but it derailed the story a bit. Merry Christmas everyone. Stay tuned. The next chapter is coming up momentarily!
> 
> Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I’m also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter


	10. Good Night, Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s a teen movie without conflict and some making out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired the chapter:  
> Hypnotize – The Notorious B.I.G.  
> Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? – Arctic Monkeys  
> No. 1 Party Anthem – Arctic Monkeys  
> Stolen Moments – The Vamps
> 
> Beta: MotherofBulls and Mama2HPbabies
> 
> Notes: Angst ahead...

Between the alcohol, loud music, and bodies dancing dangerously close together, raging hormones were inevitable. Draco found it increasingly challenging to keep his hands off her body and his lips off her mouth. Hermione’s alcohol-fused haze had her blissfully unaware as to how hedonistic the atmosphere became. 

“So,” Draco drawled as their bodies gyrated to the music. “I won the match today.”

“That you did,” she played off innocently, trying to avoid the inevitable. 

Catching her averted gaze and the little smirk, he added, “About our  _ bet… _ ”

“What about it?” she sheepishly tried to avoid the topic.

“Hermione…”

“I don’t own green underwear or a camera.” 

“Ah ha,” he tutted, “But I do.”

“You want me to wear your underwear?”

“Cheeky, but no. It’s the second part of your birthday gift.”

“Oh is it now?” The alcohol coursing through her veins prevented her thoughts from forming before speaking. She couldn’t help but let words spill from her mouth. “Well, it’s my party now. I can leave any time I want.”

“That is very,  _ very  _ true…”

“So why don’t we sneak away for a bit and—”

_ “Hermione Granger! Get your arse up here!” _  Ginny hollered as a gigantic cake was rolled out behind her. 

The birthday girl groaned as Draco dragged her up to the multi-tiered confection. He would glance back at her with a cheeky smile, spurred on by their fellow students cheering as they pushed her through the crowd. Upon reaching Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Daphne, Draco raised Hermione’s hand in triumph, urging the crowd to celebrate even louder.

Theo meandered back into the crowd and sidled up next to Blaise. 

“Where’ve you been mate?” Blaise asked already knowing the answer sniffing the overpowering scent of marijuana on his friend. 

Theo didn’t respond at first, instead gazed forward at a giggling Hermione as Draco fawned over her and took her in his arms. “Self-preservation.” 

“What?” While usually quick on the uptake, Blaise’s deductive reasoning faltered. 

“Self-preservation,” he repeated, albeit slowly and slightly incomprehensible. “I figured, if I keep myself away from her and get as drunk and high as possible, I’ll pass out soon before I do anything stupid.”

Nott’s words had an almost sobering effect on the mother hen of their group. While Blaise couldn’t always keep his friends from poor decision making, he coaxed them to see reason. “Theo, that’s a terrible plan. I’ve been with you drunk and high. You might as well be drinking Veritaserum.”

Theo looked wistfully at Granger wishing it was his face she was smashing cake into and his lips she licked frosting off of. “Then what do I do?...  _ Fuck, _ I’m starving.”

“I believe the elves are putting out a buffet soon,” Blaise chuckled at Theo’s onset of ‘the munchies.’ “This is what you do. Eat something. Then go to bed. As you said,  _ self-preservation _ .”

Theo took a big swig of beer. His mouth was devoid of moisture and felt as if he had stuffed cotton balls under his tongue. Blaise was right. Theo is incapable of keeping secrets or exaggerating the truth when intoxicated. “You know, I went to London yesterday after class and got her a birthday gift. I think I’ll give it to her, then go to bed.”

Blaise sighed as he saw cake start to fly and knew this party was nowhere close to ending. He turned to Theo, grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him, so they were eye to eye. “Do you think that’s smart? Can’t you just throw it on the pile?”

Nott ducked and avoided the yellow cake and buttercream careening toward him. Luckily, his inebriation hadn’t gotten to the point where he could no longer perform magic, and he was able to cast a Protego around himself and Blaise. “Look. I didn't really get a chance to tell her that I was done chasing her. I was put on the spot at breakfast. I just want to say—”

“Yeah, that’s the complete opposite of self-preservation. You know how you just told me that you didn’t want to do anything stupid. That’s stupid. Don’t—”

With the flick of his wand, Theo took down the shield just in time for cake to land right Blaise’s face. The Head Boy groaned and wiped the frosting from his eyes only to find Theo had left him in the midst of the food fight. 

“Shit,” he sighed in defeat. Whatever Theo had planned in his drug and alcohol-induced state was going to either break his heart or make things so much more complicated. He rubbed his temples feeling his buzz dissipate. His feet carried him straight to the bar desiring nothing more than to recapture the gleeful cloudiness. Knocking back a shot of firewhisky, loud hollering caught his attention. His copper eyes flicked in the direction of Seamus Finnigan calling everyone to the bathroom for a foam party. Zabini took one more shot and decided he had enough refereeing for the night. He was going to have fun. If his friends were going to make poor life decisions tonight, maybe he should just join them.

—xoxox—

Surrounded by aromatic suds and pulsating rhythms, the mass of hormonal witches and wizards succumbed to their primal urges. Hands slid up and down soap slickened skin, and mouths captured tongues and lips eagerly. It didn’t take long for couples to break off from the party and retreat to their rooms. 

Tucked away in the corner of the large Roman bath, Draco had Hermione pinned up against a wall with her legs wrapped around his waist. Their kisses were desperate and heated. As the night had progressed, the prolonged restraint had become too much. Her jeans practically suffocated her and she wanted nothing more than to rip them off. She broke the kiss, their lips raw and swollen. “I think I’m ready to make good on that bet.”

Devilishly, he grinned. “Is that so?”

“Yes. But I want to freshen up first. Let me grab everything, shower, and you meet me in my room in about twenty–thirty minutes?”

“I like that idea. I’ll clean up too.” Draco was suddenly aware of how sticky they were from the cake and frosting. “I mean, we’re already here in the bathroom. Can’t we both just hop in the shower and then head up?” 

“That’s a thought. I guess we could just summon our things…” Hermione pondered, “but it’s such a long way to travel. Who knows who will tamper with our things.” Annoyed that this is one time the Muggle way was best, she replied, “No. Back to our rooms, shower, then bed.”

“Bed?” Draco asked excitedly, wondering if she would let him go further.

She answered him with a little smile. “For  _ some _ fun, and then sleep.” Hermione had been struggling with her own needs and his purity. Draco’s virginity was something she didn’t want to take lightly. Most teenage males were eager to stick it into the first willing hole that would allow them, but there were several reasons he had waited. Hermione was not the virginal pureblood bride he thought would be the first to bed him. The next best thing would be to wait until their relationship had grown into something meaningful. Despite pureblood ideologies tainting their history, she respected this part of this life and would honor it, even if he was more than eager to defy tradition. “Come on.” She took him by the hand and led him to the stairs. 

“Wait.” Draco was suddenly aware of this throbbing erection. Lest he wants to walk through the compound with tented trousers, he needed to let his dragon return to his slumbering state. “You go ahead. I’m just going to...calm down a bit.”

Hermione snorted indelicately and nodded in understanding. She gave him a quick peck and climbed out of the massive pool they called a bath. 

After some quick spellwork, her clothes dried and she headed back to her room. With the alcohol still coursing through her veins, she couldn't walk straight. Completely caught off guard, she felt a tug, pulling her into an alcove. A lean, tall body was pressed against hers, coiling her waist in his arms. He smelled of fragrant smoke, alcohol, and mischief. At first, she didn’t think anything of it as she had been manhandled by her friends all night. Ginny kissed her, Harry and Ron had both scooped her up at some point, she can even vaguely recall receiving kisses from both Seamus Finnigan and Millicent Bulstrode. The rousing behavior of earlier that night was that of drunken revelry. This moment right here was something else entirely.

“Hello, Princess,” he slurred. “Happy Birthday.”

“Hey, Tiger,” Hermione wasn't quite sure why she called him that, but it seemed to fit. His lips curled into a smile at the sound of the nickname. “I haven’t seen you all night.”

“Kind of hard to see me with your face attached to Malfoy’s,” he pouted. 

Hermione responded with stunned silence and reddened cheeks. Had she become one of those girls? Realizing something, her eyes strained at him quizzically.“Were you just waiting for me in the dark?”

“No. No. I just needed a second to myself before heading to bed, then you walked by.” He reassured her, quelling any doubts that his pining could be teetering the line. “So, I got you a present.” His arms were wrapped around her waist loosely, trying not to scare her off. “It’s in my pocket. I want to watch you open it.”

“Theo…That’s not a good idea. I—I should go.” Hermione gently placed her hands on his arms, gesturing to him to release her.

“Don’t you trust me?” His voice was implementing an innocent quality. The way he said it reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite remember from where. 

"Yes...but..." She scoffed and pointedly touched her index finger to his nose. “You’re high.”

“Just a little bit.”

“You’re drunk.”

“Just a lot, but so are you.”

Hermione bit her lip, suppressing the inevitable giggle fit, knowing his observation to be true. 

“So do you want to see your birthday present or not?”

Whatever sliver of sobriety she had left, told her this was a bad idea and Draco was waiting, but the voice just wasn’t loud enough—Hermione’s inhibitions went out the window hours ago. She threw caution to the wind and thought, what the hell, and nodded yes. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a soft velvet bag and handed it to her. Curiously, she untied the drawstrings and pulled out a delicate gold and silver wristwatch. She gasped taking in the intricate details; the face was mother of pearl with rubies in place of numbers, and the glass was held in place by a setting of tiny diamonds. It looked old and well-worn. “Oh, Theo. This is too much.”

“Not for you.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly. 

“No, I can’t accept this. It’s beautiful, but no.” Guilt took over along with mild panic. “I should go.”

“Just humor me for a moment and try it on,” he pleaded. “I picked it up from my vault last night. It belonged to my grandmother. She was a Gryffindor.”

“Really?” Her eyes brightening with curiosity.

“Yes, really. The pureblood gene pool is only so large,” he grinned sheepishly.         

She responded with an amused sigh and admired the watch. The craftsmanship and detailing were impressive, to say the least.

“Read the inscription on the back,” he urged. 

Hermione turned over the timepiece, and on the back,  _ I’ll wait for you _ , was engraved in runes. Her heart started pounding, and her brown eyes met his bloodshot hazel ones. Her lips trembled, unable to find words. Instead, he spoke for the both of them. 

Theo slipped her hand through the watch and carefully latched the clasp. He gently twisted her wrist so they could see it sparkle from different angles, then kissed her ring finger. “This is my way of saying that I’m done chasing you. You don’t need to worry about me getting between you and Draco.” He cleared his throat. Allowing his neurons to reignite, he mustered his last bit of courage and clarity. “When you’re done being Hermione Granger, trying to fix the problems of the world and repair broken things and broken people, I’ll be here waiting. Waiting to show you that you can paint your story on a blank canvas instead of cutting your fingers raw piecing together a mosaic. Until then—” he tilted her chin up and placed a soft kiss upon the lips he had been denied.

She gasped in shock and tried pushing him away. But his lips. His lips felt like velvety pillows against hers—fuller and more relaxed than Draco’s. The tenseness and resistance melted away.  Hermione’s breath hitched as the kissing continued. Instinctively, her hand crept up the side of his face, brushing against the late-day stubble. She parted her lips and allowed the kissing to intensify. The taste of Firewhisky and herbaceous smoke lingered on his tongue along with a sweetness that was something all his own. 

Theo’s hand slid up the side of her face. His fingers felt at home, combed between her waves. Tenderly, he continued to press lips and lightly dip his tongue into her mouth savoring her.  He took his time not caring if they got caught. This could be the first and last time he ever kissed her, and he had to make it count. 

Somehow under his spell, her conscience began to awaken. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She should stop, but there was a part of her that wanted it. 

Theo pulled away breathing heavily with urgency and the struggle of restraint. 

Hermione’s eyes fluttered open shocked at what she had let occur between them.

“Enough.” He leaned his forehead against hers, attempting to steady he erratic breath. Their eyes locked in a way they hadn’t before. This was it. All the cards were finally on the table. He had nothing left. He waited for her to say something. Anything. 

When her eyes searched his looking for the words, her voice and mind betrayed her. 

“Goodnight, Princess.” Theo whispered dejectedly. He walked away leaving her in the dark, alone with her thoughts.  

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute.  _ How could I be so monumentally stupid? Stupid for kissing Theo or stupid for waiting so long to do it?  _ She cursed the voices in her head. Draco. She picked Draco. He’s the one she wanted to be with and the one she needed to meet in her room.  _ Yes. Draco. My boyfriend. Draco, the one who changed and was willing to change even more for her.  _

Theo’s voice rang in her ears.  _ You can paint your story on a blank canvas instead of cutting your fingers raw piecing together a mosaic. _  While she and Draco were naively enjoying everything about a new relationship, there was truth in those words. One day they would have to address the past. One day she would have to meet his parents. One day she might have to revisit her nightmares. One day, the gossip mongers would spread rumors about the war heroine and the former Death Eater.  

The Head Girl then looked down at her wrists. On one, a charm bracelet that symbolized youth and was meant to collect memories. On the other—Merlin, what was Theo thinking? It was too much. It was too bold. It was a piece of his family. A piece of his heart. At that, her eyes watered a bit at the thought. Hermione struggled to unclasp the watch and hide it in her pocket. What to do with it, she still didn’t know.

Peering around to make sure there was no one around, her heart pounded as her legs clumsily carried her to her destination. All of the emotions of the event sent her mind spinning. She tried to justify what happened and reminded herself that Draco wasn’t the only person she had kissed that night, but all of that was in fun. Sloppy alcohol and potion-induced idiocy. He laughed each time because she was so uncomfortable with all the attention. But kissing Theo was something entirely different. That kiss was something more. Her stomach twisted and turned from stress. Bile rose to her throat, and she vomited every ounce her body would allow her to reject. 

She couldn’t remember exactly where she was or if there was anyone around her. Before she knew it, a hand was holding back her curls while another rubbed soothing circles on her back. 

“Get it all out,” a gentle voice cooed. “Forget about the bet. Let’s just get you a shower and a glass of water.”

“Draco?” She looked up, her eyes watery, struggling to focus. 

He shook his head at the incredibly inebriated birthday girl. “I thought you could handle your liquor better than that.”

“I—I’m sorry,” was all she could choke out, her throat raw and swollen. 

He smiled and cast as scourgify making the mess disappear. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Hermione smiled weakly and hoped that was the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ANGST! I MADE ANGST! Sorry! But also, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!
> 
> **I'm running an official poll on Facebook that ends on 03 January. Vote #TeamDraco or #TeamTheo by clicking this[link](https://www.facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter/posts/332688197214643).**
> 
> Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review.


	11. Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All the cards are on the table. Hermione made her decision. Time to be a ‘normal’ teenager. 
> 
> Alpha/Beta: MotherofBulls

Hermione groaned, and massaged her eyes and temples. The throbbing in her head was unbearable, and would most certainly regret everything she did last night—if she could remember it. She turned to reach for the well-placed bucket on the side of her bed. It took more effort than she would like to admit. How she wished she could wordlessly summon it, but she could barely sit up, let alone produce wandless, wordless magic. After dry heaving and realizing her body was void of fluids, she felt a warm hand soothing her bare back. Goose pimples raised on her skin, and she didn’t know if she was startled or comforted. Bits of the night before flashed in her mind—kisses, secrets, promises, bets. Before looking back at who the man in her bed was, she gave herself a look under the covers. Okay, she wasn’t wearing a top, but her knickers were still on. Still not an ideal situation. She took a deep, purposeful inhale before turning around. 

“Are you okay? Do you want some water?”

Draco. She sighed in relief and turned to him. Covering her mouth to shield him from the undoubted stench of alcohol, bile, and morning breath, she said, “Yes, but I’m going to go to the bathroom and wash up. I feel vile.”

He nodded in understanding. 

Fighting her hangover, she rose to her wobbly legs and stretched. The circulation of blood made her momentarily see stars. Hermione remembered she had a tonic for headaches sitting on her desk. She uncorked the little bottle and downed more than double her usual dosage. Her head felt incontestably better. Grabbing her dressing gown, something plagued her. She couldn’t remember how they got into her room. “Draco, did we do anything last night?”

A low chuckle came from him before telling her, “Yes and no.”

She turned to him with a look of confusion that begged him to elaborate. 

“I found you throwing up in the hall, and then you erupted into what I call, ‘drunk girl tears.’ So we went to your room to get your things so I could help you shower. You um…” He paused and looked up at the ceiling sparing them both the embarrassment. “You pulled my pants down and started—but then it triggered your gag reflex.”

“Oh my god.” She clapped her face in mortification. “Did I throw up on you?”

“My clothes, yes. My bits, thankfully not.” He couldn’t help but laugh at this point. “So I cast a quick  _ Scourgify _ , and helped you out of your clothes and into bed. You refused to put pajamas on and threw your bra at me. I came back to check on you after I showered and decided to stay in case you needed help again, and you had passed out.”

She smiled back at him. “And you stayed anyway.” 

Draco shrugged sheepishly.

“Well, I want to cook breakfast and properly show my appreciation.” Hermione was thankful that she and Blaise had petitioned for a full kitchen to be installed in the eighth year compound. It was a good opportunity for the teens to build some valuable life skills and encourage inter-house unity. “Get dressed, and I’ll meet you in the commons.”

He sighed not wanting to get out of bed.  The night had not entirely gone to plan, and he still hoped she would make good on their bet. “Why don’t we stay in a little bit after your shower?” He suggested coyly.

Hermione knew what angle he was playing at, but she really wasn’t in the mood just yet. She smiled and replied before exiting, “None of that right now. Breakfast. I need greasy food.” 

* * *

 

Theo opted to take his meal in the eighth year commons that morning. He could just imagine the unnecessary volume at which the first years ‘spoke’ and the bright light that cascaded through the windows of the Great Hall, and it already set his teeth on edge. Thank Merlin Harry had the same idea and offered to cook. Potter enlightened him on the finer points of preparing coffee and toast the Muggle way.

After taking a tentative sip, Theo’s eyes widened in surprise. “This is quite possibly the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had.”

Harry snorted at the remark, impressed with himself. He threw a few slices of bacon in a pan, then reached for his own coffee. He took a sip and asked, “You’re in Justin’s Muggle Studies group, right?” 

Theo nodded. “Nice chap. We’re supposed to go explore London next week. Said something about Savile Row, and oysters and champagne at Harrod’s.”

Harry snickered at the itinerary and flipped the bacon. “Well, I think you and Parkinson will feel at home with Justin.” 

Reading Harry’s tone, Theo reasoned, “That bad?”

“Oh. The best. The ponciest. Dunno, Nott. You might end up finding a new tailor. Abandoning robes for suits.”   

He chuckled at Harry’s remark. “As long as Justin finds me a good cup of coffee, and Pans doesn’t make a complete arse of herself and ask him for a betrothal contract, I think I’ll manage.” 

“Betrothal contract?” Harry’s curiosity was piqued.

Theo went on to explain, “I don’t know if there is something similar in the Muggle world, but it’s a contract arranged by families that have various conditions such as monogamy, required number of heirs, protection of assets in the event of separation, death, or foul play—but it’s all magically binding.”

“Muggles have something similar. They’re called prenuptial agreements. Depending on the culture, families are involved. But most Muggles are pretty modern and marry whoever they want. Sometimes they’ll get prenups, but usually, people just fall in love and get married. If they end up getting divorced without a prenup...well, it gets messy.” Harry slid the bacon out of the pan and onto a plate. “How many eggs do you want?”

“Two please.” Theo continued to marvel at Harry’s cooking skills. He had never even gone to a market, let alone cooked a meal for himself. “Potter, do you think you and Ginny would like to have a contract considering you have assets to protect?” 

Harry was thankful he hadn’t taken another sip of his coffee as it would have undoubtedly been spat out. “Jesus, Nott. I wasn’t expecting a question like that.” 

“Why not?” 

“I’m eighteen. I’m really not thinking about marriage at this point.” Harry’s blood pressure had raised just at the thought. “I’m just thankful to be alive right now.” He paused tentatively contemplating where this conversation was headed. “Is that something you think about? Marriage?”

Theo attempted to circumvent the question with one of his own. “If your parents had lived or you were raised by your godfather, how immersed do you think you would have been in Pureblood customs?”

Harry sighed wistfully recalling this subject was one he had thought about at length, especially with Hermione. He slid the eggs onto the plates next to the bacon and added the toast. Taking the dishes, Harry started walking them toward the closest table. “Could you grab my coffee please?” 

“Sure.”

The two sat facing each other. Harry dipped a corner of his toast in the yolk. 

“I imagine I would have been brought up learning both pureblood and Muggle customs. I think they would have been important for me to know where I came from.” He paused and smiled at a memory. “Sirius said he hated his family and that his home was a prison, he’d do these things like run his fingers along the family tree, or talk about things his parents would make him do. There were some traditions that were a part of him, you know, no matter how much he accepted Muggles and denied hateful ideologies. I’m guessing you’re struggling with the same thing.”

Theo scratched his head and let a lot of things off his chest. Talking to Harry was a welcome distraction to the weight of regret from the night before. The closer he became with Potter, it became more apparent why he was the type of person people would die for. Harry was generous with his time and friendship. His honesty was refreshing, even if biting at times. Nott couldn’t fight his inner turmoil and began rambling. “I don’t know if the things I’m doing are fully based on rebellion, or if they are who I want to be. I have this new freedom to do what I want, buy what I want, start relationships...it’s just there are a lot of things deeply ingrained. I don’t hate Muggles or Muggleborns or anything like that, it’s just...”

Harry’s eyebrows raised as he stuffed bacon in his mouth, waiting for Theo to continue.

“Purebloods get married young, and I still want that. Before you say anything, I know we are about to enter a new millennium, modern era, etc. I just want to uphold, well,  _ transform _ the family name. Not be the family who was a major proprietor of hatred. A new family...I don’t know what I’m saying.” Theo pulled his hair in frustration, his natural eloquence was failing him. “I might still have too much weed in my system.”

“Possibly,” Harry chuckled. 

“Do you think Hermione and Draco will last?” 

Nott’s question was melancholic and hopeful, it made Harry feel for the guy. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Hell, I don’t know if Gin and I will last.”

“You don’t?”

“Don’t get me wrong. I love her. Just the thought of her kept me going when I hit my lowest last year. There were times I’d make myself sick imagining her marrying someone else because I  thought would be dead and had no future. The war may be over, but we’re still teenagers in school. When we leave here, who knows. Careers, growing up, meeting new people. We can still change. While I’d like to think that if we made it through that, we could make it through anything. The truth is I don't know if I’ll be ready for Forever until that moment comes. Right now, it’s enjoying every single day given to me.”

Theo ate a few bites and considered Harry’s words. They were young. Destiny was uncertain. There were so many directions their situation could go. Would remaining hopeful and pining get him anywhere, or would it set him up for failure?

“Nott. I can hear your brain working from here.” Harry summoned the coffee pot from the counter and refilled their mugs. “It’s time to let go. She’s called the cease-fire and there is no more fight to be had. Self-preservation.”

“Oh, you’re shooting House mottos back to me now?” Theo laughed humorlessly.

Harry smirked. “Finish your breakfast.”

“Yes, Dad.”

The two young men sat and continued to chat, changing the conversation from relationships to more superfluous chatter. They heard footsteps and turned to find Hermione walking into the kitchen. 

“Coffee?” Harry called to her. 

“Please.” She walked to the cupboard and took out a mug. As Harry poured the elixir that was more alluring to her than any sobering potion, she realized it was Theo sitting across from him. Her eyes met his, and she quickly averted his gaze, but not before glancing at his lips. Pieces of the night before becoming more clear. Hermione sipped her coffee, regaining her composure. “You boys done with breakfast?”

“Just about,” Harry answered. “There should still be eggs and bacon in the cooler, and I saw some tinned beans in the cupboard.”

“And you didn’t make any for us?” Theo quipped, earning him a napkin in the face from Harry. 

Hermione couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight of their burgeoning friendship. She was about to comment when Theo stood. “I’m heading out. I’ll clean since you cooked?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Harry said in agreement. He shoveled the last few bites before handing Theo the plate. 

Theo wouldn’t allow himself to look in Hermione’s direction as he walked past her toward the sink.  _ Self-preservation. _ It would become his mantra. 

Hermione takes the seat previously occupied by Theo. It was warm, and the faint smell of his cologne lingered. She gulped her coffee and tried to keep her attention on Harry while ignoring Theo in her periphery.

Harry raised an eyebrow as he sipped from his mug, waiting for her to say something. 

She sat tongue-tied, her eyes betraying her as they threatened to move in Theo’s direction. 

“How’s the hangover?” 

Harry’s words managed to penetrate the invisible walls she was trying to build around everything that happened at her birthday party. 

She groaned and rubbed her temples. “Horrible. I threw up a lot. I took something for my head, but I need something greasy in my stomach—and a lot of it.”

“Thanks again for breakfast, Potter,” Theo called.

“Next time, I’m making you cook,” Harry joked.

“I’ll try not to poison you.” He gave nods to both Harry and Hermione and left. 

A pensive expression remained on Hermione’s face. Harry sighed and started prodding her with questions. “Where’s Draco?”

“He’s coming. Where’s Ginny?”

“In the Tower. She passed out pretty early last night. Reckon she’s still sleeping. What’s going on with you and Theo?”

“What?” She retaliated defensively. “There’s nothing going on.”

Harry rolled his eyes and continued his interrogation. “I don’t know. You two both look like someone pissed on your N.E.W.T. scores.”

“Harry! What a ridiculous thing to say!” She stood up and walked to the cooler to look for the eggs, bacon, and tomatoes. “We’re just a little out of sorts from the party. Too much drinking...Where are the tinned beans?”

“In the cupboard to your left.” Harry knew what a horrible liar Hermione was, and knew he’d get her to reveal things sooner or later. “You still going to your parents’?”

“That’s the plan. I just need to sober up first.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Harry offered. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen them. Just a pit stop before I head over to see Teddy and Andromeda.”

“You’re going to see my aunt?” A voice drawled sleepily.

“Yeah. Wanna come with?”

The invitation was so casual, it took Draco off guard. “I—uh…”

Harry chuckled. “Well, maybe not today. Maybe one day soon. Did your mother tell you she visited Andie earlier this week?”

Starting with the breakfast preparations, Hermione kept quiet and smiled as she overheard the conversation.

Draco yawned and replied, “She mentioned it. Seemed it went well.” 

“According to Andie, more than well,” Harry stated cheerily. “They’re making weekly tea a regular thing. You should join them. I’m sure Teddy would like to meet you.”

“He’s super cute,” Hermione added, hollering from the stovetop. “Just learned to sit up and he has the best giggle.”

Draco pondered meeting an infant cousin and wondered how that would be exciting or enjoyable. He’d never cared much for younger children. In retrospect, one of his favorite things about when he became a prefect in fifth year was the ability to abuse his authority to threaten and take the mick out of the first years. Draco winced at the memory realizing what a monumental dick he was. If his girlfriend and his mother were making an attempt to get to know the baby, perhaps he would as well. 

“Hermione, I’m going to start getting ready. So we’ll leave in about 45 minutes?” 

“Where are you going?” Draco seemed taken aback.

She finished plating their breakfast. 

“Oh, just to visit my mum and dad. I’m feeling better, so no point in changing plans.”

“I can come with you, too.”

Harry noticed Draco’s expression twist into something both sad and disappointed and took this as his cue to leave. “See you at the lifts, Hermione.” 

“See you, Harry,” she called as she rummaged through the drawers for silverware.  

Draco came up behind her and kissed her on the shoulder. Much like the way he ran his hand up and down her back earlier, the simple act was comforting and relaxing, slightly relieving her of the tension plaguing her mind. 

She liked this. She liked him. She continued to remind herself of this fact. 

While alcohol had broken down inhibitions and allowed the unsaid to come to light. Sobriety was...well, sobering. It hurt. ‘Clarity’ was an obscure concept. Things weren’t clear for her. They were fuzzy, like a camera continually shifting focus. She couldn’t tell if her subject was in the background or in the foreground. 

_ Focus. _ She demanded her brain to pay attention to the soft kisses on her neck. The synapses of her logistical mind made the connection with that of the pleasurable touches to her skin. Hermione turned and saw only Draco.

“Harry’s only stopping by for a bit. I just want to spend some time with my parents alone today,” she said sweetly hoping he would understand.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Well, tell Hugh and Jean I said, hello.” 

She gave him a quick kiss. “I will. Now breakfast is getting cold.”

“Did you forget you’re a witch and you can reheat it?” 

Hermione’s eyes narrowed at his quip. Playfully she remarked, “You know, insulting me is one way to guarantee more alone time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I’m back. Well, if anyone has seen my Facebook page, they would know that this story has given me an exceptional amount of trouble over the past year. I’ve also grown a lot as a writer and I’m terrified this story sounds like it was written by two different people. I feel like I lost myself somewhere along the writing process. After a lot of soul-searching and workshopping with my alpha/beta, MotherofBulls, I have a very clear vision and know where this story will be going now. Expect everyone to grow up and realize they can’t postpone adulthood. 
> 
> P.S. I promise to complete this fic.


	12. Diplomacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is growing up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MotherofBulls
> 
> I cannot even tell you how much your comments on Facebook and your reviews mean to me. There were times, so many many many times I was ready to abandon this story, but you all helped me turn that around. And to the people who private messaged me and said, “I don’t usually leave reviews but…” those messages meant the most to me. I know there is something a little bit intimidating about putting yourself out there, even if for a comment. It chips away your anonymity. I get it completely. So thank you again for the encouragement. Alright, here we go...

**Chapter 12: Diplomacy**

* * *

 

The remainder of term flew by with the eighth years growing closer. Romance continued to blossom and so did friendships. Together the young adults promoted inter-house unity to the younger students and acting as professors’ aides. Volunteers managed to repair portions of the castle that weren’t touched since the Battle. Even the athletic center was on track to open at the start of the spring term. The Ministry’s grand scheme had actually paid off.  

The mandated Muggle Studies course had gone from being one of the most detested classes to one of the most popular. Underclassmen couldn’t wait until they turned seventeen so they could also take weekend trips into the Muggle world. Word spread of all the fun everyone had shopping, exploring, and bonding. When it came down to it, the young witches and wizards no longer loathed or feared the Muggle world. It was all part of the human experience. Once one understood it, they found inspiration and an eagerness to learn more.

On a crisp November morning ready for another outing, Hermione and Blaise were the first two from their group at breakfast.

Placing sausages onto his plate, Blaise asked Hermione, “Where’s Draco?”

Groggily she yawned while pouring coffee into her mug. “Not sure. I stopped by his room, but he wasn’t there. Must be in the shower or something.” 

Blaise shrugged his shoulders, not surprised his friend took an extended amount of time to primp. “So I’m guessing you’re not one of the couples having regular sleepovers yet. You two still taking it slow?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in surprise, not having expected Blaise to be so forward with his prying into her sex life. He always managed to get the truth out of everyone, so there was no point in playing dumb. With a sigh, she confirmed the information. “I know a lot of this is new territory for him, so, yes, we’re taking it slow.”

“And it’s really out of respect for his values?”

“Of course? Why else would I—” Hermione interrupted that thought, not wanting to reveal any more about her previous relationships to Blaise. “We’re really getting along, and we have enough hurdles as it is. No need complicating things any further.”

“Isn’t that... _ frustrating. _ ”

Hermione angrily bit a piece of toast, refusing to deign Blaise’s comment. 

“Okay, I’ve apparently hit a nerve.” Apologetically, he turned the conversation onto another topic. “So, Granger. I think we’re doing a damn good job as Heads.”

Hermione gently put her mug down and gave him a patronizing round of applause.  “That’s what you wanted, right? Praise and approval?” Hermione asked with a cheeky grin.

Blaise threw a bit of roll at her with a chuckle. “I mean it. This school has completely turned around since we started running it with McGonagall,” he said with absolute sincerity. “You have the Potions apprenticeship and I had mentioned going into fashion, but have you ever considered that maybe we’re meant for something more.”

Curiosity piqued, she asked, “What are you thinking?”

“Your conviction, my creativity, we could really shake things up in the political arena. Maybe even  _ international _ politics.” 

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the way he emphasized the word.

Blaise reached into the pocket of his coat, and pulled out pamphlets and folded parchment. “McGonagall was too busy to find you yesterday, so she gave them to me. The British Ministry is looking for junior ambassadors and you and I were nominated, along with few others I can’t remember off the top of my head. They’re looking to send to representatives to MACUSA, and the French, Italian, and Spanish Ministries. It’s only a two-year post, and then we’d work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.” 

“I don’t know. I mean, I just got into the swing of things back home, and rebuilding my relationship with my parents and…”

Blaise could see the conflict on Hermione’s face. “Granger, do you really enjoy Potions?”

“Of course I do!” She replied indignantly. 

“Hmph.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you in Potions. You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“Hey!” She scoffed indignantly.

“I think you enjoy alone time with Draco.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Do you hear yourself? If you pass up an opportunity like this to spend time with your boyfriend, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”

His words practically knocked the wind out of her. She stared back at Blaise with her mouth agape. Were his words true?

“Look. Draco is one of my best mates. But Hermione—” he took a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t see you cooped up in a lab, possibly working on a single formula for years. Your mind works too quickly. You need to be out there making change. Talking to people. Influencing them. Look at what you’ve done in just one term.”

“I didn’t do it alone.”

“And you won’t be doing it alone out there. You’d have a team.” 

“Are you saying we would be a team?”

He shook his head. “No, I would request a post without anyone I know. It’s time for me to carve my own path. Not as a Slytherin, or as a Zabini, but as me.  Don’t you want to do that, Hermione?”

“Of course I do. I don’t want to be in anyone’s shadow—”

His eye quirked. “I don’t know. It seems like you traded Potter’s shadow for Draco’s.”

She huffed in response. “I am in no man’s shadow. Let me see those.” Her eyes lit up as she scoured the document. “New York, Paris, Rome. These all sound amazing.” 

“Unfold that.” Blaise pointed to the parchment with purple wax seal. “It’s your formal invitation. Did you know the New York embassy is in Tribeca, not too far from MACUSA and the Parisian Embassy is in Montmartre? But I’m hoping for Barcelona.” 

“I just...wow.” Hermione struggled to form coherent sentences as she continued to read and re-read. “Before getting into the Potions program, I had played with the idea that I would spend the next few years working restructuring the Ministry”

“Strong international relations is part of a stable Ministry.” It was his not-so-subtle reminder of the work to be done. “So, you’ll consider the program?”

“Yes.” The tone in her voice was more factual than contemplative. Her breakfast had gone cold. No matter. Hermione's hunger had been replaced with excitement. Her heart began to race, thinking of the gravity of this opportunity and her head swirled thinking of the possible locales she could end up. She had always loved America. Even the continuing education opportunities there were more abundant and diverse than were available in Britain. While imagining her cosmopolitan lifestyle with its educational enrichment, she suddenly remembered the day’s outing. “You know, our trip today was supposed to help inspire your fashion career.”

He smiled warmly. “Fashion was sort of the safety net job. We’re going shopping, so the trip isn’t a total loss.”

Hermione snickered and finished the last dregs of her coffee. From her periphery, she could see Draco walking down into the Hall, and she couldn’t wait to share the good news.

“Morning.” Draco slid in next to her and pressed his minty lips to her coffee-flavored ones. “Did I miss anything?”

Hermione poured him a cup of coffee as she said, “Oh, not much. Just talking politics—”

“Count me out.” Draco interrupted, forking several sausages and potatoes onto his plate. “I’ve had my fill of manipulators vying for power for at least the next decade. Politics is the last thing on my mind.”

Tentatively, Blaise and Hermione peered at one another. Broaching the topic of the Ministry internship would be a challenging one, even in casual conversation. 

Yawning and oblivious to the exchanged glances, Draco eked out, “What are those?” pointing to the Ministry literature.

“Just some pamphlets. Nothing special.” Hermione defeatedly folded them and tucked them away into her expandable handbag.

Draco placed a hand on her knee and kissed her shoulder. “I like your outfit today.”

“Thanks.” She blushed a little. The ivory turtleneck jumper was made from a form-fitting ribbed knit, and her short skirt was burgundy corduroy with silver buttons down the front paired with argyle patterned tights. It was by far one of the most trendy Muggle outfits she owned and had been a bit apprehensive about wearing it. 

Draco snuck his hand a little higher up her thigh as the compliment distracted her. 

Hermione bit her lip as Draco moved in for a kiss. Blaise cleared his throat, hoping the lovebirds would get the hint. He even coughed, _ First years. Cough. Looking. Cough. Head Girl. _

It wasn’t until Luna Lovegood came bounding down the aisle and sat right next to Hermione.

“Morning everyone.” The flaxen-haired girl proceeded to split a roll and stuff it with bacon and bits of egg. Munching happily, she asked, “Hermione? Where are we going today?” 

Hermione shook herself out of a near-snog session in the middle of the Great Hall. “Hey Luna.” 

Blaise put down his fork and gave Draco a sly smile. “I’m sure the place we’re going today isn’t as boring as the place we went last week,” he teased. 

“Boots is AMAZING.” Draco defended. 

The pureblood was impressed beyond belief visiting the chemist, including discovering how many variations of ibuprofen existed. Hermione explained most Muggles don’t make their own things, so they just trust the drug companies and marketers. She further explained chemistry was a dangerous and exact science, much like Potions. It was always evolving, changing, and improving. There were regulations, but there were corporations and governments that support innovation for a multitude of reasons—public health, profit, and even warfare. 

Continuing his admiration of the drugstore, Draco said, “All things the Muggles can choose from—medicine, mouthwash, cleaners—and they don’t make it themselves. Big companies do, and they make a fortune! Potion making has become a stagnant art, unlike chemistry. I want to bring new life to Potions. And if someone else will pay for,--I mean,  _ invest _ , in my research, the better.”

Blaise rolled his eyes, “You are the cheapest, rich bastard I’ve ever met.”

“How do you think my family has stayed wealthy?” he replied with a devilish smirk.

“Enough, boys.” Hermione yawned, despite finishing a full mug of coffee. “We’re heading to a sporting goods shop. Should be fun. We’ll be there for a bit, but Blaise will escort you back to the castle. I’m spending the rest of the weekend with my parents afterward.”

“Oh, that’s today…” Draco’s shoulders fell, crestfallen. 

She squeezed his knee reassuringly. “Yes, I told you several times. Draco, it will be less than twenty-four hours.”

He looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes. “Do you have to go?”

“You’re adorable when you’re pathetic.” Hermione couldn’t help but laugh and kissed him, the corners of her mouth still pulled into a smile. 

A chorus of younger students giggled and made kissy noises. 

With a wave of his wand, Blaise separated the two. “ _ Oi!  _ Cut it out you two. You’re delaying my retail therapy.” 

“Retail therapy?” Luna asked with a puzzled look. 

“It’s a Muggle term for masking your problems by spending heaps of money,” Hermione said with a crooked smile. 

Blaise winked back. “Speaking of which. Let’s hurry up to Gringotts so I can exchange for the crisp notes. I hate when all they have are the wrinkly bits of paper.”

 

“As promised.” Hermione brought them to a grand, multi-story building in Picadilly. She led the group through the doors and up a flight of stairs. “There’s kit for tennis, football, rugby, cricket, training, running, horseback riding, outdoor adventures, and pretty much every Muggle sport that’s played in Britain.”

Zabini’s eyes were as wide as saucers. He steadied his breath and casually walked past the racks with his fingers extended. He liked the feel of the high-tech fabric against his skin and would stop when something would grab his attention. He stretched the material and examined the stitching. “Granger, this place is amazing.”

“I can’t believe there are so many sports…” Draco whispered, equally mesmerized by the size and variety of goods.

“Excuse me,” Hermione called to a pretty sales girl in a polo shirt with its buttons undone; exposing more skin than would be considered professional. 

Blaise raised an eyebrow at Hermione wondering what she was playing at.

“Yes, miss? How may I help you?”

“My friend here is completely clueless about sport,” Hermione explained with a mischievous grin, then came in close for a whisper. “A bit bookish. Doesn’t get out much.”

The girl looked Blaise up and down and grinned. “Really? He seems awfully fit.”

“Genetics.” Hermione’s matter of fact response caused Blaise to scoff, while Luna and Draco did their best not to laugh.

Hermione looked at the girl’s name tag. “Roxy, this is Blaise. Could you please help him around the shop?”

“I’d be glad to.”

“Draco, Luna, I want to go to the tennis section. Do you want to come with me, or go with Blaise?” 

“Is it alright if I explore a bit on my own?” Luna asked tentatively.

“I’ll join Blaise.”

“Great. We’ll all meet at the till in the tennis section in about an hour?” 

Hermione’s request was reasonable, and they all nodded in agreement.  

Lured like a moth to a flame, Hermione’s feet carried her towards the tennis racquets. Many people just didn’t realize this was her second passion. While many knew her to have this sort of tunnel vision when it came to books, she was just as bad with tennis. Ever since the last time she played, the idea of a brand new, shiny, state-of-the-art racquet taunted her. Sure, there was nothing wrong with her current one, but she wanted something lightweight and balanced like Theo’s. He was such a natural at the game, and he did make a great doubles partner. The way he won over her parents so easily...Hermione paused at the thought, and then pushed it away as quickly as it came. It had been weeks since her birthday, and they had barely interacted since, other than in class. She hoped he regretted that stolen moment and all the confusion that came from it because the truth was she missed their friendship. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice called behind her. 

“Theo!” Hermione was caught completely off-guard, and her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment from the outburst. Realizing he wasn’t alone—Justin and Pansy stood to his left suppressing their laughter—Hermione regained her composure and greeted them. “Sorry about that. You gave me a start. Hello. Are you three here for your weekend outing?”

He cast a satisfied smirk watching her fluster. “Yes. Justin is helping me pick out a few things needed for the gym, while Pans is very impatiently waiting for us to be done.”

The black-haired girl swatted her friend on the arm. “Why must you make me sound so miserable? I just don’t have much interest in sport, and Justin said he’d be taking us to his family’s club for a bit of lunch, and spa treatments.”

While Theo rolled his eyes, Hermione replied sincerely, “Well, that sounds lovely. Justin, what club do your parents belong to?” 

The two rambled at a rapid-fire rate comparing the best clubs in London, even realizing they had mutual acquaintances. Their pureblood counterparts were given a peek into upper-middle-class Muggle society, which they quickly realized functions much like their own aristocracy.  

Growing impatient and hungry, Pansy looked for an opportunity to break up the gab session. “Granger, where are Draco and the rest of your group?”

She honestly didn’t know. Attempting to hide what was an undoubtedly dumbfounded look on her face, her eyes quickly scanned the store to find the three, but the multi-level shop was massive and impossible to see anyone with just a glance. “Oh, shopping I suppose. We went in separate directions and decided to meet up when we were done.”

“Interesting…” 

The way Pansy’s voice trailed and her the not-so-subtle way her eyes darted from Theo to Hermione, and back to Theo, wasn’t lost on the group. 

With a throaty cough, Justin attempted to diffuse the tension. “Hermione, is this your group’s last outing before the holidays?”

“Just one more. The weather is just getting too dreadful to do anything else, and exams are coming up.”

Nodding, he agreed. “Say, what do you think about doing a cinema night next weekend?”

Hermione clapped her hands together excitedly. “Oh, we must. Let’s get the others on board and plan.” 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Justin responded, flashing a cheesy grin. 

“What’s so funny, darling?” Pansy inquired.

“Nothing, love. I know you’ve never been to the cinema and I’m just curious to see how everyone will like films.” He kissed her on the forehead affectionately on a little patch of skin not covered by her silky black fringe. 

“You’re not trying to mock the purebloods, are you?” She asked him with wide eyes and fluttering lashes. 

He tapped the tip of her nose and said in his most sincere tone, “Not at all.”

Somehow, the Muggle-born Hufflepuff managed to melt the Slytherin Ice Queen. A year ago, Hermione would have found them quite the odd couple. Well, she could say the same about herself and Draco. 

“Justin, Pansy,” Theo started, knowing they wanted to leave, “I’ll just be at the till, settling up the bill and making delivery arrangements.” He noticed the confusion on Hermione’s face and turned to her. “I have a temporary rental at a Muggle warehouse to receive things, then shrink and Floo them over.”

“Clever,” she remarked.

“I’ll meet you at that coffee shop across the street.”  

They bid their farewells and turned to leave. 

Hermione took that as her cue. “I guess I should be off to find everyone else. Bye.”

“Wait.” Theo reached for Hermione’s wrist and kept her from taking off too quickly. “I have to ask you something. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest. He hadn’t so much as asked to borrow a quill since her birthday, what could he possibly want to ask her? Was it about school? The watch? The kiss? Oh, Merlin, and why would he want to do it here? With a tremble in her voice, she responded, “Yes?”

“Your father sent me an invitation to play squash with him. I don’t want to respond until I know how you feel about that.”

“Oh.” She sighed in relief, thinking it was something much more serious. Mr. Granger had taken a shine to him and admired his skill. Her eyes flicked upward to meet his and she smiled brightly. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. Dad would love that.”

“Really?” Theo mused. “You don’t think it would be awkward with all things considered?”

“Why would it be?” She shrugged off a slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind. “Dad likes playing with you, and we’re friends, right? I mean, when the school courts are done, we’ll play together. You’re naturally gifted. Who wouldn’t want to have you as a partner?”

“I can think of someone…” His voice trailed, and he looked at her accusingly.

“Theo. You know I’m talking about tennis partners.” 

Theo’s mouth curled into a soft smile. For the weeks he had been practicing self-preservation, she hadn’t seen him smile so easily. This casual conversation felt so welcome and natural. As much as she enjoyed herself, Hermione reminded herself of where chats like this led. The playful smile that was on her face a moment ago, turned into a frown. They both looked down and saw that he still held her by the wrist. Why he hadn’t let her go, or why she hadn’t pulled away yet, she couldn’t say.   

Theo let go of her wrist and stepped back to give her space. “Granger. I can sense some apprehension, and I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to. If you don’t want me to play with your father, just say the word.”

Hermione took a moment to reason. This wasn’t about her and Theo. It was about her father being a lovely soul who wanted to play father-figure to a young man who had none. “Of course I am. Besides, I couldn’t let Daddy down. I know he must really want to have you around if he mailed you directly.”

“I’ll let him know.” Theo smiled softly and ruffled his hair. “You wouldn’t happen to have the time would you?”

Hermione sighed, knowing full well what he was playing at. “Sorry. Not wearing a watch.”

“Shame.” He smirked. “See you ‘round, Granger.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled as she walked away, her day somehow a little lighter.

Draco appeared before her so suddenly, she could have sworn he apparated. He hid something behind his back and wore the dumbest grin. “I’ve figured out what will make me more interested in tennis.”

“Is that so?” Hermione bit her lip, realizing she had been in the tennis section so long but hadn’t really looked at anything for herself. Well, Draco seemed so eager to show her something, she couldn’t help but be curious. 

He revealed a minuscule skirt with matching sports bra made from high-performance materials in the brightest shade of white imaginable. “Your arse and legs will look amazing in this.”

“Five points for picking out something stylish and functional. Minus five points for the sexist comment.” 

Draco scoffed. “It was not sexist. It was merely a boyfriend admiring all of his girlfriend’s assets.”

Hermione couldn’t explain it, she felt unsettled. On the one hand, in Draco’s mind, he admired her, and this was a cheeky way of showing how attracted he was to her. And it was sort of sweet. On the other hand, it felt a little like objectification. And she wasn’t sure she liked it. 

“Hey, I was joking.” He came behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Are you really mad about that? I don’t have to get it.”

“I’m not mad. It’s just—” her thoughts were interrupted by a passerby.  

“See you back at school.” Theo waved to the both of them.

Draco turned to Hermione with apprehension. “Did you know he was here?”

She nodded in response. 

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Well…” Hermione contemplated whether she should tell him now or back at the castle. 

“We ready to go?” Blaise joined them holding several bags. “Damn, this is heavy. The minute we get out of here, I’m adding a lightening charm. Just ran into Theo, and saw  Pans and Justin earlier. Did you see them?”

“Yes.” Hermione took a few of the bags from Blaise. “I’ll help you. Let’s just get Luna, and we’ll get out of here.”

Draco then took them from her. “I can help him.” His jaw was tense, wondering Hermione’s agitation must have come from an encounter with Theo. “So, have a nice chat earlier?”

Blaise passed looks between the pair, wondering if he would have to intervene as the school’s unofficial mediator. 

Hermione decided it was best to just get this conversation over with. “My dad invited Theo to play squash with him. And I said that it was fine.” She attempted to sound flippant as if the situation was meaningless, only to backfire on her. 

“Wow. Okay... Will I be getting an invitation, or is that only extended to people your father would rather you date?” His eyes darkened, and his voice took on a chilling edge they all hadn’t heard in some time. 

Blaise began to worry, knowing this version of Draco well. “Mate, calm down.”

“Draco.” Hermione pleaded. “It’s not like that. Dad just thinks he’s a good player. That’s all.” She ran the back of her hand against his cheek, trying to calm the jealous rage that threatened to bubble over. 

“You can’t be serious, Hermione. Your dad doesn’t just want to be friends with Theo.”

“Of course he does.” There was a strain in her voice as she teetered between comforting and annoyed. 

His jaw clenched, and his fists tightened around the handles of the shopping bags. Draco looked around him and knew it wouldn’t benefit any of them if he made a scene, especially out in public surrounded by Muggles. He looked to Blaise, who gave him a disapproving expression. With deep breaths through his nostrils, Draco settled down, convincing himself there was nothing to be worried about. 

“Hermione. I’m sorry.”

The tenseness in her chest relaxed as she finally exhaled. “It’s alright.”

“We’re probably going to have a few bumps in the road, aren’t we?”

“You can say that again.” While being of a diplomatic spirit, it was more than certain that even Blaise found this game tiresome, and so was carrying his bags. “Where the hell is Lovegood?”

Hermione didn’t see anyone around them and cast a quick charm to lighten the bags. 

“Thanks, Granger.” Suddenly returning to his usual candor. “But seriously, where is that girl?”

“Let’s just wait. She’s only five minutes late.” Hermione started tapping her foot nervously, starting to get worried. “Oh, okay. Go look for her. But come back in ten minutes.” 

Blaise gave her a quick nod and took off. 

“So.” Draco pursed his lips, not knowing how to proceed. “There’s something I wanted to tell you at breakfast.”

“Oh?” If Hermione wasn’t worried before, she was now. 

“My mother wants to meet you.”

“Come again?”

“We’ve been seeing each other for two months now, and she wants to meet you properly. You know, not under certain circumstances.”

“I—”

“I've been thinking about it, and I've met your parents, and you haven't met mine.” 

"Oh, I've met your parents." 

Draco could feel the rage from earlier rising up. To better steel himself as to not immediately go on the defensive, he took a moment to formulate words. "We know you didn't meet them on the best terms."

"That's one way of putting it. " She crossed her arms defiantly. "I know what you're saying, but no one forced you to meet my parents. You took that upon yourself when you invited yourself to tennis." 

"That isn't fair." He felt his chest tighten. "You know why I did it."

"Really? Why is that?" Hermione asked, fully aware she was stirring the pot. 

"You know exactly why I did." He dropped one of the bags and ran his fingers through his hair flustered. "Hermione, it would mean a lot to me if you met my mother. You don't have to meet my father. Even Harry has met her outside of the battlefield." He bit his lip wondering if that was the best thing to say. 

Hermione sighed deeply feeling foolish and petty. Draco's request wasn’t entirely unreasonable. 

"How about a compromise?" 

"I'm listening," he replied. 

"Harry says that Andromeda and your mother have been repairing their relationship."

"That's true."

"Well, Harry is due to have a visit with Teddy. How about we make it a bit of a family gathering? You haven't gotten to know Andromeda well, I will get to meet your mother, and we'll have Harry and Teddy as mediation to keep things light."

"You mean distractions."

"Yes, okay. Distractions—but ones that will help diffuse the tension. He's adorable."

"Potter?"

"Teddy!" She laughed and swatted his arm playfully. "What do you say? We have a nice family lunch of sorts." 

"Where?”  

"At your aunt's or the Three Broomsticks? Somewhere neutral."

"I like the idea of Andromeda's." He hadn't gotten used to calling his mother's sister his aunt. Realistically, he knew she was, but it was a lot to get used to when you've spent your entire life excommunicated from a person.

"Great. I'll talk to Harry. I know he will say yes." 

"Hermione." Draco dropped the bags and took her into his arms. "This really means a lot to me. You know that, right?"

"I know. I doubt she'll like me, though."

"It's okay. She doesn't like anyone." 

Hermione scoffed, her mouth agape. 

Draco laughed and kissed her open mouth. No matter the outcome, it would be another landmark in their whirlwind relationship. 

Blaise came back with Luna who pushed a buggy stacked with enough equipment to tower over her. 

Hermione couldn’t have been more relieved with Luna’s arrival. 

“Lovegood, what is all this?” Blaise asked quizzically. 

“Rolf and I are going on an expedition over the winter hols. Thought I’d pick up a few supplies now, so you know,” she leaned in to whisper, “I can add the proper charms.”

“Isn’t that misuse of Muggle artifacts?” Blaise questioned.

“Oh no. Extension and climate control charms are quite standard. We won’t be headed into any Muggle areas, so no violations.”

They all had a feeling this discussion was going to veer off to something mad, like nargles and wrackspurts, so Draco spoke up first. “Ready to head back?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you’re probably sick of me saying sorry for not updating. But I truly am. I’m trying to get better, but real life has been really kicking my butt. Also, I deleted my Tumblr, so the only real way is to reach me on Facebook or leaving me a note in the comments. Let me know what you thought!


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